


Half Past The Point of Oblivion

by KahtyaSofia



Series: HPtPoO [1]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Daddy Kink, M/M, Prostitution, Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sissy Milking, rentboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-17
Updated: 2010-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 80,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/KahtyaSofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad unexpectedly meets a charming street hustler who insinuates himself into Brad's heart and life. Can Brad get him off the street? Does he want off the street?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Was Never Sure If It Had Been A Curse Or A Blessing

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Chance Encounter](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/445) by Kahtya Sofia. 



> This is the extended version of Chance Encounter. It would never have seen the light of day without the invaluable input and encouragement of shoshannagold. When I ran out of steam at 50,000 words she 'chatted' me through to the end. Hooker with a heart of gold is a time-proven trope and I couldn't resist bringing it to GK.
> 
> This IS an AU. If you find yourself wondering 'did she make that up?', I did. Except the bit about the olive oil. That's true.
> 
> I don't know if it's obvious, but while 'Nate' in this story is the same BAMF we know from GK (as much as is possible given that he's a hustler and not a Marine), he _looks_ like Lance from Die Mommy Die. The youthful appearance, the long hair, the seductive looks, the playful running of his tongue over his teeth, the faded jeans (not always buttoned) and tank tops. Brad never stood a chance.

Traffic was about as fucked as traffic could get. This was why Brad preferred out-of-the-way dive bars to the fruity-drink-serving, homosexual, trendy ones like someone decided to hold Walt’s birthday drunk-fest at. These completely gay bars were always in the middle of heavily populated areas that forced Brad to deal with vehicle and foot traffic when he could already be drinking.

Breaking to a stop at yet another fucking red light, Brad put the Mustang in neutral and let out the clutch. He relaxed into the soft leather and watched the crowd move in both directions in the intersection in front of him. He kept packets of Skittles on hand for moments such as this. He poured several into his mouth and chewed with satisfaction.

Brad started to take in his surroundings because he’s always alert, always situationally aware. He glanced over to his right and realized not everyone on the sidewalk was as casual as they appeared. Yes, several people were engaged in innocent conversation, but others seemed to be fronting. There was an edge to them. They were alert and watchful, seemingly _trying_ to make eye contact with passersby and the drivers in their cars.

Then Brad realized all the people exhibiting the watchful behavior were men. Fuck that, they were _boys_. Surely a few of them were legal but they couldn’t all be. A few that were probably legal still managed to look like jailbait.

Brad had never bought a street whore. He used whorehouses – otherwise known as massage parlors – and agencies. Whores let him control when, how and how much cash he had to lay out for sex. He also didn’t have to make small talk and worry if someone _liked_ him. They all liked his money and that was good enough for Brad.

The longer Brad sat at the light, the more one of the jailbait street whores began to stand out. He was a tall, lean, pretty piece of tail. Even at this distance, Brad could tell he had a cocksucking mouth. Brad's dick grew heavy between his legs at the thought of those lips wrapping around him and swallowing him down.

The light changed and Brad put the car in gear and in a roar of all eight cylinders, he crossed the intersection. He missed the fucking pussy bar on his first pass so he had to circle back.

Brad told himself it didn’t mean anything that he doubled back further than he needed to so that he had to pass by the rentboy with the pretty little cocksucking mouth again.

He wasn’t sure if it was good luck or just some fucked up coincidence that the light turned red right in front of whore-baby again. Brad studied Rentboy surreptitiously. He was in jeans so tight that Brad wondered if there was any circulation to the kid’s cock. They sure emphasized his ample package to full effect. As Rentboy turned away briefly, Brad noticed how the tight jeans molded to his ass as if they were cut for him. The leather jacket gave him an edge, despite the choirboy looks. His white tank top was too small for him, making the hard muscles of his chest and the taut planes of his stomach obvious enough to make Brad’s mouth water. The tank didn’t reach the waistband of his jeans and the strip of pale flesh left exposed was begging to be licked.

As the light changed, Brad accelerated and Rentboy glanced up at the sound of the Mustang’s modified exhaust. It seemed as though their eyes met but at this distance Brad couldn’t be sure. Not that it mattered.

He found the bar on his second pass and tried to convince himself Rentboy was just another pretty boy on the corner.

That’s what he told himself anyway. The trouble was, Brad couldn't get the rentboy out of his head that night, and, to his disgust, he woke up thinking of him the next morning. Right. Time to scratch that fucking itch.

It was Saturday. That part of town was going to be crazy, and traffic would be much heavier than the night before. Still, Brad found himself going to the bank, pulling out a serious wad of cash and then making sure his gas tank was full. As soon as darkness fell, he was in his Mustang and heading for the street where he’d seen the whores trolling the night before.

He was right; it was almost mayhem in that neighborhood. Vehicle and pedestrian traffic was worse, thanks to a chaotic mix of tourists looking for a thrill, soldiers and sailors looking for sex, and locals looking for a party. Bodies mingled everywhere and cars trying to get in and out of small parking lots snarled the flow on the streets.

Brad had a knot of excitement in his stomach and partial hard-on by the time he could see the traffic light at Rentboy’s intersection. A chill of dread and disappointment suddenly washed over him when it occurred to him that his target might not even be there tonight. The kid could have a Saturday night regular. He might work a different corner tonight. The traffic might have held Brad up too long and someone else might have already engaged Rentboy’s services.

Last night, he’d made both passes in the left lane. Tonight, he approached the intersection in the right lane, his passenger door next to the curb where the street whores were gathered.

When the light turned red, there was one car at the light in front of Brad. _There_. There was Rentboy, dressed the same as the night before. Brad didn’t know if he was one lucky son-of-a-bitch or if he was just totally fucked.

Rentboy was talking to two other whores and suddenly the car in front of Brad arrested the attention of all three. Apparently there was some interest. Brad’s heart was in his throat. He was so close: to have his target snatched from him now was unacceptable.

Rentboy held one hand up to prevent one of the whores from approaching the car. He nudged the second whore, a more slightly built little twink, forward with his shoulder.

Twink edged forward hesitantly, looking young and virginal as he did. The whore that Rentboy was restraining didn’t look happy, but he also didn’t put up a fight. Interesting. Brad’s cock twitched at the idea that Rentboy could be pushy; that he might rule this street corner like his own little kingdom.

Twink opened the car door and slid in. The car made a sudden and quick right turn, the squeal of tires just audible as it roared off into the night. Brad eased forward, revving the engine just a little more than necessary. It had the desired effect, though. Rentboy watched Brad roll up to the traffic light.

He had his finger on the button to lower the window but he just couldn’t bring himself to push it. Rentboy was watching him intently, eyes narrowed slightly. Brad wondered if he could even see into the cockpit with the dark tint on the Mustang’s windows.

Rentboy must have seen Brad looking at him because he arched one fine eyebrow. It looked part curiosity and part challenge. Brad liked the idea of the kid being a challenge, refusing to just go passively with the program.

The light turned green and Brad had no choice but to cross the intersection. _Fuck!_ When did he turn into an indecisive pussy? He had cash in his wallet and a target identified; there was no reason not to take action. His dick was urging him to take action.

With renewed determination, Brad turned right at the next intersection and doubled back. Two more right turns that took for fucking ever with this traffic and the idiot civilians and he was back on track.

Brad rolled to a stop at the intersection and didn’t give himself a chance to think about it this time. He dropped his passenger window.

One corner of Rentboy’s mouth turned up slightly in humor. It was gone as quick as it came but Brad had seen it anyway and he felt it all the way to his dick. The kid turned to the whore standing next to him and inclined his head in Brad’s direction.

Oh, _hell no._

Brad held up his hand, palm out and shook his head emphatically. The whore stopped in mid-step and looked back at Rentboy as if waiting for further instructions. Brad pointed a finger at Rentboy, then flipped his hand palm up and gestured the kid forward with a sharp flick of his fingers. Rentboy might be in control on the command deck of his little street corner but Brad was in charge of the larger A.O.

Rentboy’s smirk was back, only this time it held until he leaned down the window of Brad’s car. He really wanted to run his tongue along the creases that formed at the corner of the kid’s mouth.

 “So, you finally make up your mind, Soldier?” Rentboy said through his smirk, obviously laughing silently at Brad.

“Marine,” Brad snapped reflexively. “Get in.”

Rentboy stared at him long and hard. Brad returned his frank gaze, waiting for him to find whatever it was he was looking for. At last, he stood up and opened the car door, sliding easily into the comfortable leather of the passenger seat.

Brad raised the window, effectively shutting out the sounds of the city around them. The sound of his exhaust was loud in the quiet cockpit when the light changed and Brad accelerated through the intersection.

“First time?” Rentboy asked quietly.

“Only on the street,” Brand answered succinctly, not taking his eyes from the road. From the corner of his eye he saw Rentboy’s head turn toward him slightly but beyond that, he gave no sign that Brad’s words might have had any effect.

“What should I call you?” he asked. Not, _what’s your name? _True sign of a professional.

“Iceman,” Brad replied. Rentboy turned to face him, smirk back in place. Brad met his gaze and held it, defying him to comment. “Problem?”

“Huh uh.” This time, when Rentboy smiled, Brad stopped breathing. The smile lit up his face and illuminated the interior of the car. He had straight, white teeth. _Perfect_.

“What do I call _you_?” Brad asked, turning back to the road.

“El-tee,” the kid answered straight-faced.

“Seriously?” Brad threw the kid a disbelieving look; surely this was payback for the whole ‘Marine’ debacle.

“Seriously,” LT huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “I boss everyone around on the street, chasing off the dangerous Johns and trying to spread the business around. Make sure everyone makes some money each night. Some of those bitches are real hogs.”

Brad snorted and shook his head in disbelief.

“One night, this _jarhead_ said I was coordinating the field of action like some bitch-ass Lieutenant,” LT elaborated, still smiling at Brad. “The name stuck on the street.”

Earlier, Brad had wondered if he was very lucky or royally fucked. At this point, he was going with fucked.

“Make a right at the next light,” LT said quietly.

The street was a quieter than the rest of the neighborhood. There was virtually no foot traffic and only one or two cars.

Without warning, LT leaned across the center console and pressed his firm chest into Brad’s arm. He reached between Brad’s thighs and cupped the erection that had been at half-mast since he’d left the house.

“I’m gonna get a look at your cock,” LT whispered.

“Knock yourself out,” Brad breathed, shifting his hips forward for better access. This was a test. Would he let himself be exposed and touched _before_ they talked about money?

_Hell fucking yes!_

LT’s hand was gentle but confident as he took Brad’s cock out of his jeans and jacked it once, twice. Brad didn’t bother to hold back the moan that formed in the back of his throat. They both knew what this was all about, why pretend otherwise?

And, now that Brad had let his dick be seen and touched before LT named prices for sex acts, neither of them had to fear the other was a cop.

“Iceman, huh?” LT whispered against Brad’s neck. “Well, you’re hard like a block of ice but your skin’s on fire.”

“I didn’t get the name from anything physical,” Brad managed to bite out, struggling to hold his focus on his driving as his dick got longer, thicker, and harder under LT’s touch.

“Cold as ice, are you?” the kid said against the shell of Brad’s ear and running his tongue against it lightly. “I wonder if I can thaw you out. Will you melt for me, Iceman?”

Brad’s breath shuddered in his chest and his pulse hammered in his throat. He’d never had this kind of reaction to a whore, before. He’d never _liked_ a whore. He’d never wanted a whore to like _him_.

“You wanna park somewhere quiet?” LT asked, his hand still on Brad’s dick and his breath ghosting over Brad’s ear. “Otherwise I have a room.”

“Your room’s good,” Brad answered, his voice raw in his own ears. The _last_ thing he fucking needed was a flashlight shining in his face just as he got his cock up LT’s tight ass.

“Make the next right, then.” Brad did as LT ordered.

They drove in silence, for a time, LT still cupping Brad’s fully hard cock. Occasionally, Brad could feel a gentle puff of air along his neck as LT breathed heavily against him. It was fucking killing him but he managed to drive sedately and avoid a speeding ticket with his pretty-boy whore in the car with him.

“How much is a bossy little whore like you gonna cost me?” Brad finally asked when he could tear a part of his brain away from driving and the feel of LT’s hand slowly stroking his dick.

“Depends on what you want,” he breathed against the side of Brad’s neck.

“What do you do?” Brad countered.

“I do what all whores do,” LT replied on a breathy laugh. “I fuck and suck.”

“Do you kiss?” Brad heard himself ask and wanted to kick himself. Kissing was personal. Kissing was _emotional_.

LT pulled back slightly. “You wanna kiss while we fuck?” LT raised both eyebrows, but the question was rhetorical. “Yeah, for you I’ll work out a deal.”

It was fucking ridiculous how happy that made Brad. One night and he'd have this kid of out his system, thank Christ.

LT pointed out a run-down, fleabag, pay-by-the-hour, free-porn-showing motel. “Turn right, in here.”

Brad followed LT’s directions until he was parked in a dark corner, facing the flimsy door of a cheap motel room. The door sported faded and chipped paint and was missing one of its two numbers. The ‘1’ was still present but the ‘7’ was just a phantom image.

Carefully, Brad tucked himself back into his jeans. He fastened them as well as he could and decided his best option was to cover the bulge with his t-shirt for the walk to the room.

LT unlocked the door while Brad pressed himself against his back. He dipped his head and breathed heavily over the shell of LT’s ear while he ground his hard-on against the kid’s ass. _Fuck_ if he wasn’t behaving like a fucking impatient virgin.

LT chuckled as they fell through the door. “Easy there, big boy,” he said as he closed and locked the door. “I’m a sure thing.”

Now in the privacy of the shitty motel room that was probably about as clean as public toilet in Tijuana on Cinco de Mayo, Brad pounced. Two days. _Two fucking days_ he’d had this pretty little whore on his mind. For two days he’d wanted to get his tongue in the kid’s mouth and his cock up his ass.

Brad held LT’s head with both of his hands and plundered his mouth. He ground his cock against the point of the kid’s hip, trapping him up against the door. LT pressed back, grinding his hips into Brad’s and opening his mouth wide. _This_ was how Brad liked it. No seduction, no fucking games to play. Just a hot and willing partner, returning Brad’s kiss with zero artifice.

He felt LT’s hands snake their way underneath his t-shirt and run over his back. He hissed into the kid’s mouth when LT dragged his blunt nails down Brad’s back. LT moaned into Brad’s mouth, and then bit down on his lower lip.

_Fuck_ if that wasn’t exactly what _he_ wanted to do to this little whore.

There was business to conduct first, and Brad pulled back. LT’s dicksucking mouth was red and swollen and wet. Brad had to stop himself from going back and licking back into that mouth and sucking on those puffy lips.

“So,” Brad said, his voice rough with desire. “What are you gonna cost me for the night?”

LT’s eyebrows shot up at Brad’s words. “The night?” he stepped away from the door, somewhat unsteady, and started to strip off his leather jacket. “I usually get paid for _what_ I do, not how long I do it.”

Brad tore off his t-shirt and tossed it aside, watching LT’s back as he slid his own tank top up and over his head. The muscles rippled in his back as he moved and two dimples appeared in the curve just above the waist of his too-tight jeans. Brad’s mouth watered at the sight.

“So what does it usually cost to get you to do … what it is you do?” Brad asked, reaching for the fly of his jeans to give his hard cock some relief.

“Fifty for a blowjob,” LT said, turning to face Brad, his chin lifted in challenge. “One hundred to fuck. One twenty five for half-and-half.”

“Is that a hundred to fuck you or for you to fuck me?” Brad asked.

“Either way,” LT replied. “If you want to switch back and forth it’s an extra fifty. If you want a special scene, it’s an extra twenty-five. If you want freaky, we negotiate and I’m not cheap.”

Brad reached for his wallet as LT kept talking. “Condoms are mandatory for sucking and fucking, no exceptions. No body fluids except spit and come.”

Nodding his agreement, Brad opened his wallet and began to throw crisp bills down on the cheap dresser at the foot of the bed.

“That’s fifty to suck me. One hundred for me to fuck you. Fifty for me to suck you and another hundred for you to fuck me.” Brad paused and looked up to see LT watching him closely as he counted out the cash. “Twenty-five in case I think up a special scene and another twenty-five for me to fuck you face-to-face so I can kiss you while my dick is shoved up your ass.”

LT’s eyes were wide as he took in the pile of green on the dresser.

“That’s $350.00 dollars,” Brad threw down another $150.00. “Will an even five hundred buy your time long enough that I don’t have to worry about the clock while I’m getting you off?”

“Yeah,” LT said slowly, watching Brad intently as if he were trying to determine if Brad were for real. “That’ll buy my time and I’ll throw the kissing in for free.”

Brad slid his wallet back into his jeans and took a step forward. He captured LT with a hand behind his neck and jerked the kid hard into his body. He leaned down and slid his lips over LT’s as he spoke.

“I’m sure I’m getting the better end of the deal.” Brad let his eyes close as LT began to sink slowly to his knees.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Brad ran a hand through LT’s soft curls and struggled to steady himself. Fuck, but he’d waited longer than he was used to doing, to have this hot boy on his knees. Brad had been hard for so long now, he was in danger of shooting his load at the first touch of LT’s lips. He kept his eyes shut and his breathing steady as he felt the kid’s hands run down his stomach and then grasp the open waist of his jeans.

LT eased the denim over Brad’s hips. He felt LT’s hands grasp his ass through his briefs at the same time as he hissed hot breath over Brad’s cock through the fabric. LT slid his fingers under the elastic of Brad’s briefs and slid them down his thighs. Then Brad felt LT’s hot breath directly on the sensitized skin of his cock. It jumped and twitched in response.

“You fucking cocktease,” Brad growled, tightening his grip on LT’s hair. “I’m paying you to suck me, now get to it.”

When LT dug into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a condom packet, Brad almost protested. He wasn’t ready to fuck the kid yet. He wanted that mouth on him first.

The faint scent of mint assailed Brad’s nose and he relaxed, realizing what LT was up to. He watched the kid roll the dry, flavored condom onto his cock and smiled faintly at the strategic planning and execution of initiative LT was exhibiting.

LT wrapped his fingers around the base of Brad’s dick. Brad's unwilling moan turned into a harsh groan when the kid took the head of Brad's cock into his mouth and slowly swallowed him down. LT hummed around Brad, sucking hard as he pulled back.

“Mmmm, yeah,” Brad hissed. “Just like that.”

Brad’s hips flexed involuntarily. He chased the heat of LT’s mouth; his cock trying to find its way back into the wet heat. He buried both hands in LT’s soft curls and fought not to grab the kid’s head and just fuck his mouth. Brad felt LT’s hands slide around and grip his ass firmly, steady his movements and then _push_ Brad’s hips forward.

He was ready for the forward motion to stop and for LT to pull back but that didn’t happen. Further and further Brad’s cock slid into LT’s mouth until he fucking _knew_ he was down the kid’s throat. A shudder ran through his body at the realization. He could hear LT breathing harshly through his nose and still, he continued to swallow Brad down.

When he felt LT’s lips nestle in the hair at the base of his cock, Brad had to look down. Wide green eyes stared back up at him. LT was watching Brad intently, sucking hard around his cock. Brad’s eyes flicked from the intense green gaze to the red, wet mouth stretched wide around the base of his dick then back again. He could feel the heat of each of the harsh, strained breaths that LT exhaled through his nose.

Brad gasped when LT pulled off suddenly. He watched a string of spit stretch from the head of his dick to the kid’s swollen lower lip. It looked fucking _filthy_ and Brad's cock surged with blood again. LT made a rough sound in the back of his throat as he rapidly sucked air into his lungs. He looked up and made sure Brad was watching before he leaned forward; gaze still locked with Brad’s, and swallowed his cock all the way down once again.

Cradling LT’s head in both hands, Brad stroked his thumbs through the kid’s hair as he whispered, “Fuck, you’re beautiful when you do that.”

Brad had no idea where those words came from. He didn’t fucking sweet talk whores. That it didn’t change the fact that it was true: LT’s eyes were luminous and there was a bright flush on his high cheekbones. The mouth Brad had _known_ would look perfect wrapped around his dick was sliding down his shaft, stretched wide and slicked wet with spit.

LT sucked at him hard, again breathing harshly into Brad’s pubic hair. “Fuck, that’s good,” Brad growled as a tingle began at the base of his spine and rolled through his pelvis.

He watched intently as LT pulled off once again, desperately dragging air into his lungs. He wiped at his wet, debauched mouth with the back of his hand. Brad’s smile faltered and his breath caught in his chest when LT looked up at him once again, his eyes bright and feverish. He made a grand show of drawing his arms back behind his own body and locking his hands in the small of his back. Brad swore and nearly came at the sight of LT kneeling half naked, his own erection pressing against the fly of his jeans, eyes on fire and mouth open, tongue extended in invitation for Brad to slide his cock in.

Grasping the kid’s head, Brad did just that. He fucked himself in and out of LT’s perfect cocksucking mouth. The sounds they made together were dirty and lewd and about as fucking hot as anything Brad had ever heard. Each glide of his cock in and out of LT’s mouth sounded wet and sloppy. Each time Brad’s cock hit the back of LT’s throat, the kid made a strangled, choking sound that had Brad’s balls rising up toward his body. Over it all, Brad chanted a litany of filthy words and curses.

“What a beautiful fucking mouth,” he said, voice ragged with arousal. “You’re so fucking good at this. You love to suck cock, don’t you? You like _my_ cock choking you, don’t you? Such a pretty little whore.”

Tears were leaking out of the corners of LT’s eyes as Brad forcefully fucked his mouth. The kid didn’t struggle, though. His hands stayed locked in the small of his back and his wet eyes stayed steady on Brad’s in silent challenge.

Could Brad force LT to give in before Brad himself came? Brad already knew the answer. A resounding _fuck no!_

When LT’s tears slid down his cheeks and into Brad’s hands where they held the kid’s head, it set something off in Brad’s brain that was connected directly to his dick. His climax started in his spine, wound its way warmly through his hips then washed over the rest of his body like a tidal wave. Brad’s entire body clenched and bent him forward over LT’s kneeling form. He had no control of his muscles; of any movement. He was fucking helpless just to ride the wave of his orgasm.

When Brad could move again, he sucked in a deep, shaky breath, and he trembled, just a little, as he eased his spent cock from LT’s swollen mouth. Brad’s legs gave out then, at the sight of LT’s tear-stained face watching him closely, gauging his reactions. He found himself on his knees in front of LT, dazed and breathing heavily.

The position was fucking uncomfortable with his jeans pushed down over his hips and ass, but Brad couldn’t bring himself to care. LT slid forward a few inches until he could wrap his arms around Brad’s chest. The kiss took Brad’s breath away once again.

He managed to lift his arms to hold LT close as they kissed. LT tasted like mint and latex. Brad licked deep into his mouth to get more

The kid pressed their naked, sweaty chests together and Brad loved the feel of their hot skin sliding together.

LT pulled back and buried his face in the crook of Brad’s neck. “Did I earn my fifty bucks?” he asked, humor lacing his voice.

Brad snorted his response to the utterly ridiculous question. “Barely,” he said against LT’s ear. “Don’t expect a tip.”

LT’s husky laugh was like a fist clenching in Brad’s chest. The kid was still smiling when he pulled back and reached to remove the condom from Brad’s flaccid cock.

While LT disappeared into the bathroom, likely to dispose of the condom, Brad managed to pull himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He was reaching to untie his shoes and finish removing his clothes when LT came back and knelt in front of him, his strong, soft hands nudged Brad's aside and began to work on his laces.

Brad watched LT remove his shoes for him, and then he lifted his hips so the kid could slide his jeans down and off. He watched LT as he worked. He’d just sucked Brad senseless, submitting himself to Brad’s rough ministrations, and yet he seemed – even now – to cloak himself in dignity. Even kneeling at Brad’s feet, LT seemed his equal rather than his submissive.

He’d never met a whore quite like this.

Brad ran his hands over the exposed skin of LT's back. He drew the kid up and kissed him. LT kissed like he sucked cock; fully committed, wet and messy. He licked at Brad’s tongue with his own; full and firm.

Brad had always hated hesitant and stingy tongue.

Pulling back, he urged LT to stand, and then eased him to sit alongside Brad on the bed. He slid to his knees at LT’s feet and reached for his shoes.

“I can do that,” LT said softly, trying to push Brad’s hands out of the way. “You don’t need to.”

Brad huffed a laugh. “They taught me how to tie shoes in Boot Camp.”

“Something tells me you were coming up with faster, more effective ways to tie your shoes while you were still in pre-school,” LT teased.

Brad unfastened the fly of LT’s jeans. He urged the kid to lift his hips and he gently slid cotton and denim over his hips, carefully handling LT’s swollen, red cock. He watched it bounce free then point upward toward LT’s belly. It was as smooth and firm and beautiful as the rest of LT.

He watched LT lie back on the bed and lift his legs to rest his feet on the mattress. Brad reached up to touch but his movements were arrested when LT let his knees fall to the side, his thighs spread wide. Brad could see the pink, puckered opening of LT’s asshole. He saw that it glistened and realized LT was already lubed and ready to be fucked.

Brad pushed aside the flare of jealousy as soon as it rose up. LT was a pro. Brad had paid to fuck him. He fucked to get money to survive. It was reasonable that he had fucked someone already that day. Brad told himself it didn’t matter. He reached up and ran his hands along LT’s thighs.

“Sometimes guys are impatient to get right to the fucking,” LT said, watching Brad closely. “A little lube before I head out for the night makes it easier for both of us.”

Something Brad refused to name loosened in his chest. “I doubt you did a very thorough job. At least not as thorough as I’m going to do.”

LT lifted his arms over his head, managing to appear both innocent and enticing at the same time. “I’ve got more stuff in the bedside table.”

Brad grinned and stood. He retrieved the large bottle and a couple of foil packets. When he turned back, LT was laying on his side, still watching Brad as if he were trying to see beneath his skin. Brad slid onto the bed and set the supplies aside. He reached forward and grabbed LT’s thighs, dragging him closer.

LT lay supine and pliant. Brad took up the bottle of slick and coated two fingers. He leaned over LT, supporting his own weight with an arm by the kid’s head. Brad reached between their bodies, down between LT’s spread thighs and pressed a finger into his opening. He sank his finger deep inside of LT’s body. Brad watched the kid closely, his lips hovering just over LT’s. He drank in each quiet moan as he fucked LT’s ass with his finger.

Brad watched LT’s eyes widen fractionally when he breached him with a second finger. He swallowed down LT’s low moan and fucked him fast with his lubed fingers. Brad felt LT’s body clench around his fingers. He lowered himself and took LT’s mouth in a deep, wet kiss. LT wrapped his arms around Brad’s shoulders and pulled him close.

Pulling his mouth away, Brad pressed his face to LT’s damp neck and bit down. LT gasped and his back arched off the bed slightly. Brad crooked his fingers into the magical little gland and LT bucked his hips hard enough to nearly dislodge Brad from the bed.

“So responsive,” Brad breathed against LT’s flesh. “Just wait til it’s my cock inside you.”

“Please,” LT pleaded. “Please fuck me. I want to feel your cock inside me.”

Brad would have liked nothing more but a quick self-assessment told him it wasn’t going to happen quite yet. His erection was making its way back but he still needed a few minutes more.

Sitting up, Brad retrieved the bottle of slick once more and added some to his fingers. Propping himself over LT with one elbow, Brad slid three fingers into the kid’s tight opening. He watched as LT arched into the breach, his eyes sliding shut and his head tilting back. His mouth fell open in a silent, erotic moan. A bright flush covered his chest and neck and had crept up to decorate his cheeks.

Brad fucked his hand in and out of LT’s body, dragging a finger along that nub deep inside of him on every withdrawal. LT writhed beneath him, flexing around and pressing against him.

“Didn't take you for a cocktease,” LT gasped out and Brad recognized the challenge for what it was.

Brad was ready again, his cock jutting upward to glance against his own belly. He sat back on his heels and grabbed a foil packet, ripping it open hastily. He pressed the tip of his dick against LT’s loose and shiny opening and gave a firm shove of his hips.

LT was slick and stretched and Brad’s cock slid home easily. Heat and tightness enveloped him entirely as his hips slapped against LT’s ass cheeks. He watched the kid closely, saw him arch off the bed even as his ass clamped down hard on Brad’s dick. His brow furrowed at the intensity and he released a low, harsh groan from somewhere in the back of his throat.

Brad propped himself up on his elbows on either side of LT’s head and wove his fingers into the kid’s hair to hold him steady. Snapping his hips, he set a fast and fierce pace. He worked himself in and out of LT’s hole, listening to the loud sounds of flesh slapping flesh; he pressed his face to LT’s neck and breathed in his sweaty scent. Underneath the smells of their exertions and their sex, LT was clean and fresh. Mouthing at LT’s jaw and throat, he felt the kid’s hands grab on to his ass, gripping him tight, pulling him down and in. Brad rose up onto his hands to change the angle and to add a little speed to his thrusts. He watched LT beneath him, shifting and grinding in counterpoint to each of Brad’s movements.

“Fuck yeah,” LT said, his voice broken by Brad’s hard thrusts. “You’re so big … fuck, your cock is too much … you’re tearing me open … splitting me in two … fuck, your dick is huge …”

Brad sank down into LT’s ass then sank down on top of his body. He liked filthy talk. Hell, he fucking loved it. But this was insincere, too calculated. He silenced LT by sticking his tongue in the kid’s mouth.

When Brad pulled back, LT was watching him through hooded eyes.

“I know several ways to kill a man,” Brad said in a low voice, holding LT’s gaze with his own. “I jump out of airplanes and climb mountains. I _know_ how big my dick is. Don’t say anything you don’t really mean.”

LT’s eyes narrowed at Brad’s words, then widened at the realization of what he’d been saying just moments before. He nodded.

Brad began to move once again, quickly resuming the same punishing pace. LT’s hands dug into his ass and pulled him close on each inward thrust.

“Can you,” LT gasped, trying to speak around the slam of Brad’s body into his own. “Harder … faster …?”

Fuck yeah, Brad could do that. He slid his hands under LT’s back and curled them up over his shoulders. If the kid wanted to be fucked raw, Brad could accommodate him.

LT spread his legs wide and held himself open while Brad fucked him. _Christ_, but wasn’t his pretty-boy whore the most enthusiastic thing Brad had ever encountered? He looked like an angel and fucked like a demon. What the fuck was this kid doing on a street corner when he should be warming the bed of a perverted actor or politician somewhere?

The noises LT was making now were better than any porn track. He was releasing a litany of dirty words and lewd sounds. It was all mindless and genuine and it had Brad’s balls rising up toward his body already.

Struggling for control, Brad sat back on his heels and took a deep breath. He caught sight of himself in the mirror over the dresser at the foot of the bed.

His body glistened with sweat and he, too, was flushed across his chest and cheeks. He was breathing heavily and his own mouth was puffy from kissing LT. His eyes were wide and shell-shocked and the look on his face …. he closed his eyes and refused to contemplate what that look meant.

The mirror _did_ give him an idea, though.

Brad pulled himself out of LT’s body.

“What?” LT asked, eyes wide with panic as he reached for Brad. “What’s wrong? What’d I do wrong?”

Brad glanced down at LT’s hand gripping his arm, knuckles white.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he answered, striving to keep his own tumultuous emotions out of his voice. “Just a change of position.”

LT’s relief was palpable as he released Brad’s arm. That level of anxiety couldn’t have all stemmed from a fear of disappointing Brad. Something bad had once happened to LT when he’d disappointed a trick. Something LT didn’t want repeated.

Brad helped LT to turn over, face down on the bed. He paused to lick a broad strip up LT’s back, the entire length of his spine. He received an answering shiver for his trouble.

“Let’s see how many more of those hot, filthy noises I can get you to make,” Brad husked into LT’s ear, seeking to reassure him. He sat back and helped the kid onto his hands and knees.

“You keep fucking me hard and fast and I’ll make all sorts of noises,” LT replied, relaxing once again.

Brad parted LT’s ass cheeks with both hands and slid himself easily back into the tight heat. He gave a few experimental strokes and felt LT fuck back into him, reaching to match his rhythm. Brad let the kid settle into it before he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around LT’s chest. Sitting back, he drew the LT up against his own body.

LT groaned as he found himself settled in Brad’s lap. Brad felt his cock slide deeper into LT than it had been before and knew LT felt it, too.

“Oh, Christ, fuck!” LT gasped out. His head fell back against Brad’s shoulder, and his hands scrabbled to entwine with Brad’s where they rested on LT’s hips.

Brad looked up at their image reflected back in the mirror. They made a fuckin' hot picture. LT sat across Brad’s lap, impaled on his cock. The kid’s head was thrown back against Brad’s shoulder, exposing the elegant column of his neck. His chest heaved with each breath and glistened with sweat. His belly was taut and defined, clenching and relaxing as he dealt with the cock in his ass. LT’s dick was swollen and red. It bounced against his own belly, weeping freely from the tip. It looked _painful_ and Brad ached to touch it, to stroke the kid to release and relief. He didn’t, though. No, he planned to use that hard cock in a little recon mission.

“Ride me,” Brad ordered quietly against the shell of LT’s ear. “Fuck yourself on my cock. Take it hard and deep just like you like it.”

The muscles in LT’s thighs flexed as he raised himself up then sank back down on Brad’s dick as if he was made for this. His fingers clutched hard at Brad’s hands, his grip strong and constant. With each downward motion of his body, each time Brad’s cock slid up and in, LT released a sound of utter abandon. They were all low and rough, deep in his throat, and every one punched Brad right in the gut.

Brad watched for a time: LT with his head thrown back and his wet mouth open, releasing each lewd sound he made. Then he lifted a hand, resting it briefly on LT’s shoulder before running it lightly down his back.

“Hey, look at us,” he urged, jostling LT lightly until he opened his eyes. “Look, in the mirror.”

LT lifted his head languidly, as if the effort was great. When the sight of them in the mirror - wound around each other and riding high on arousal - finally registered, his eyes widened and he shifted in Brad’s lap.

“Don’t stop,” Brad bit out through clenched teeth. “Keep riding me. Watch yourself riding my cock.”

LT followed orders like a seasoned Marine. He began to move, setting a rhythm that stole Brad’s breath and had their skin slapping with each downward motion.

“Fuck, I,” LT whimpered, never taking his eyes from their reflection in the mirror. “I need … oh god …”

Brad took pity on LT’s plea. He released his grip on the kid and grabbed the bottle of lube.

“I know what you need,” he said, his voice torn up with his arousal. “I’ve got you. Hold out your hand.”

LT held out his hand, palm up and Brad drizzled lube into it.

“Touch yourself while I watch,” Brad ordered. “Show me how you do it when you’re going slow, making it last.”

LT hissed when his hand wrapped around his own sensitized cock. He stroked himself from base to tip, his grip tight but his pace slow. He palmed the head of his dick, spreading the lube. LT’s chest heaved with the effort of each breath and his body was tightly clenched around Brad’s cock, as if he were struggling for control.

Brad watched every motion of LT’s hand, every nuance of expression. He learned how to bring the kid pleasure but keep him right on the edge, not bring him over.

“Now show me how you make yourself come,” Brad growled. “Show me what feels good. Show me what makes you come.”

LT’s motions became shorter and quicker. Brad watched as he adjusted to a thumb and two-finger grip that focused on the leaking red head of his cock. He tugged at himself and swirled his thumb over the tip.

He’d been so hard for so long it didn’t take him long at all to topple over the cliff. One second LT was stroking his own erection and the next his entire body was locked and motionless. Brad wrapped his arms around the kid and held their bodies close together as the tremors began. LT released a single, guttural cry and came with long, ropey jets over his fist. His body rocked with the force of his climax and Brad felt it from the inside, his dick gripped by the strong, convulsive muscles of LT’s body.

With one final sob, LT released his grip on himself and slumped forward in Brad’s arms.

LT tried to hold himself up with an arm pressed to the bed but he was still weak and trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, voice torn from his final climactic shout. “I’m sorry, just give me a minute.”

“Shut up,” Brad said quietly, placing a kiss at the base of the kid’s neck to take any sting from his harsh words. “You're fine.”

Brad eased LT down onto his belly on the bed, and then covered him with his own body. He slid his hands beneath LT’s chest and up over his shoulders. Brad pressed his mouth to the tendon in the back of the kid’s neck and licked at it, nipping lightly before soothing it with his lips.

He began to rock into LT’s body, knowing the end was very close. Brad whispered nonsense into the kid’s ear, telling him how good it felt to be inside of him. He told him how close he was to coming and how fucking amazing it was going to feel when he finally did.

Brad bit down on the juncture of LT’s neck and shoulder when he came. He felt his cock twitch with each pulse of his balls as they pumped his spunk rapidly out of the end of his dick. It was a hard come, surprisingly so, since it was his second in so short a time. Brad blamed it on the hot, responsive little whore beneath him.

When Brad’s breathing eased, he slid himself from LT’s body. He reached for the condom but LT’s hands were there, pushing his away. The kid removed the latex sheath and slid quietly from the bed. Brad gathered up the pillows and piled them all together before collapsing down onto them. LT reappeared, cleaning himself up with a warm cloth that he also swiped over Brad’s cock and balls before he tossed it aside.

Brad pulled the kid down onto the bed beside him. They lay side by side, propped on the pile of pillows and watching one another cautiously. These business transactions usually terminated right now. Brad normally stood up, got dressed, and left without a backward glance. He wasn’t in a hurry to go and LT obviously wasn’t impatient for him to leave.

Then Brad remembered the money on the dresser. He’d paid for this time. They were still safely within the terms of their business contract. Still, it didn’t explain why LT was watching him so closely, so intently, as if trying to see into Brad’s head and figure him out.

Good luck with that.

Brad let his eyes slide shut, willing himself to relax and hoping that would encourage LT to do the same. It worked when, a few moments later, Brad heard LT release a heavy sigh and seemingly sink into the bed beneath them.

He hadn’t intended to sleep. He’d never fallen asleep with a whore. That shit could get you killed, or at the very least robbed of your wallet and jewelry. When Brad jerked awake he saw LT sound asleep in the same position he’d been in when they’d first laid down. _Fuck _but he looked even younger when he was asleep. He looked like a fucking child.

Sliding carefully from the bed, Brad retrieved his jeans and checked his wallet.

“It’s all still there,” a quiet voice said and Brad looked up into wary green eyes. He nodded in silent acknowledgement of both his suspicion and LT’s awareness of it.

Brad got dressed in silence and glanced at his watch. LT looked over at the bedside clock. It was one a.m.

“You paid for the night,” LT said, wrapping himself around a pillow and if Brad hadn’t known better, he’d say he looked lonely. “You paid for things I haven’t done yet.”

“I got my money’s worth,” Brad said, flashing LT a smile. “Consider the rest a tip.”

“Are you sure?” LT asked and fuck if Brad didn’t waiver for a second.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, lacing up his boots. “You still have time to go back and maybe find another customer or two.”

 LT rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Nothing out this time of night but the freaks and the violent assholes.”

Brad felt like he’d been clubbed over the head with the reality that not all Johns were like him. He was sure not every one of LT’s tricks made sure he enjoyed the sex or left him only with bruises made by pleasure, not violence.

Reaching for the door, Brad slid the lock open before he turned back one last time.

He never turned back.

“Take care of yourself, LT.”

“You do the same, Iceman.”

And with that, Brad stepped out into the night.


	2. He Couldn't Be Any More Screwed

“Yo, Homes!” Ray shouted, running up and jumping onto Brad’s back. “Where the fuck were you Saturday? I called your cell phone like fifty gazillion times.”

“I know,” Brad replied, prying Ray’s hands from around his neck. “That’s why I shut it off.” He inventoried an ammo can, initialed it, and snapped it shut. He logged the count onto his master sheet and selected another can.

“Dude, you said you’d be there,” Ray accused, in his typical rapid-fire delivery, popping the lid on an ammo can with a loud metallic clang. “When you no-showed, we just wondered if you were okay.”

Brad thought over the list of excuses he could give Ray that would appeal to his more prurient interests and would get him to drop the subject of Saturday night.

“I was getting laid, Ray,” he laced his voice with annoyance. “The last thing I needed was the mood kill of your back-woods, inbred, sister-fucking, whiskey tango cell phone calls.”

Ray looked up at Brad, smiling widely. “Icemaaaaan!”

Brad’s gut clenched.

“Say no more, brother,” Ray continued, oblivious. “Far be it from me to interfere in a man getting his dick sucked.”

That shut Ray up for the moment, but Brad had the misfortune to work with some of the most observant fuckers in the world. Try as he might to hide it, he was obviously distracted. His co-workers gave him shit for it all week, but Brad ignored them. The brass was a different matter. His CO pulled him aside Wednesday afternoon, just after the weekly briefing of worldwide hotspots and monitored areas of conflict.

Brad exited the briefing room, located in the Recon Admin building, and was striding toward the exit. His Lieutenant called out as Brad passed his office door.

“Sgt. Colbert,” Lt. Wynn called. “A word, please?”

“Of course, sir.” Brad liked Mike Wynn. He was smart, competent and trusted his men to do their jobs.

“Next week is going to be pretty intense for you and your men,” Wynn said as they walked side by side.

“Agreed, sir,” Brad replied.

“This isn’t going to be jumping from the back of a moving truck or repelling from a tower,” Wynn continued. “You’re going to be dropped blind in the middle of the fucking ocean, and on top of a mountain, with nothing more than your K-bar and a damn compass.”

“I’ve participated in training exercises before, Lieutenant.” Brad kept his voice neutral out of respect for command. “What’s this about, sir?”

“I need your head in the game, Brad,” Wynn answered. “If you aren’t focused, you or your men could get hurt or dead, even if it is only training.”

Cold dread washed over Brad. “I don’t understand, Lieutenant. Is there a problem with my performance?”

“You’ve been distracted this week,” Wynn explained. “Your work has been stellar as always, but I can tell your head hasn’t been one hundred percent here.”

Brad gave himself a mental kick in the ass for letting a piece of tail distract him from his job; from being a Marine.

“It’s nothing serious, sir,” Brad said, forcing a detached tone. “Just personal business that I’ll have in hand by next week.” Brad tried not to shudder at his own unintentional pun.

“Anything I can help with?” Wynn asked and Brad knew his concern was genuine.

“No help required, Lieutenant,” Brad assured him.

Wynn assessed him closely for a minute, and then his entire face lit up with a smile. “Sergeant, do you have pussy-brain?”

Thankful for the deflection Wynn handed him, Brad allowed himself a small, knowing smile. “Something like that, sir.”

Wynn clapped him on the shoulder before turning left and heading down the corridor toward the offices of his own superiors. “You have yourself a good weekend, Brad. And I expect you to show up Monday with your head back in the game.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

~*~

Brad felt like he’d spent the entire week with a hard-on. He always woke up with morning wood and a few focused strokes in the shower usually took care of it. Ever since the Saturday night with his pretty-boy whore, it seemed he’d get hard again just minutes after a jack.

Sunday night, he’d remembered LT’s swollen lips sucking on his cock and he’d come all over his own hand inside of a minute. Monday morning in the shower, his slick hand hadn’t been enough. By Wednesday night, he’d exhausted his memories and had moved on to fantasies. First, he imagined himself sucking LT’s cock. Then, he pictured himself on all fours, LT behind him and fucking his ass vigorously. By Friday night, Brad was fantasizing about cuffing LT to the headboard of his own bed instead of the dirty motel room.

Saturday morning, Brad awoke with a hard-on that ached when the bedclothes rubbed across it. He was about to reach for it, stroke himself slowly, before he jumped into the shower. To his extreme pleasure, LT took care of it for him. Brad was warm and relaxed when LT slid over his body. The kid kissed his way up Brad’s chest until he reached his mouth and tongued his way in, wet and messy, making Brad’s toes curl. As they kissed, LT sank down on Brad’s cock. He groaned at the feel of his dick sliding up into the tight heat of LT’s ass. The brilliant kid must have awoken early and lubed himself to get ready.

He really needed to give LT a medal for strategic planning and flawless execution.

LT sank down onto Brad’s cock one final time and then Brad was coming. He arched up off his bed, balls aching, and his back cramping. Hot come landed on his belly and thighs. It felt like it went on forever. When Brad’s muscles unclenched and he fell back against his mattress, he felt the cold, sticky sheet press against his groin.

_Fuck_! He hadn’t had a wet dream since high school. He’d _never_ had a wet dream that vivid and that intense.

Brad hadn’t planned on ever seeing LT again but, obviously, there was something about the charming hustler that he needed to get out of his system.

He angrily stripped his bed and threw the sheets in the hamper. Brad wasn’t sure if he was mad at himself for mooning like a thirteen-year-old girl over a pussy boy-band; or at LT for being such an intriguing, enticing fuck.

Stepping into the shower, Brad planned his mission for the day. If he were going in search of his hot little whore tonight, he’d need cash first and foremost. He should put gas in his car and make sure he had condoms just in case …

_Fuck_. How the hell was he going to get out of Ray’s party tonight? Especially after Ray had already called him out on Monday for missing Poke’s barbeque the previous Saturday.

Brad dried himself and realized he had no choice. He needed to get LT out of his blood and out of his fucking head. He’d call Ray and tell him he’d be missing the party in favor of getting laid again.

He couldn't miss LT tonight. He'd be at that street corner promptly at sundown.

~*~

Fate and kismet got together and fucked, and from their union they spawned a love child they called Brad fucking Colbert. He knew that his life would be much less complicated if he managed to miss LT tonight, but complicated personal relationships had long been an intrical part of his existence. Brad _wanted_ this complication.

Not only was LT standing causally at his street corner when Brad rolled up, but he made it right to the front of the intersection when the light turned red. He dropped the passenger window and waited.

LT was facing away from the street talking to one of the other whores. The twink noticed Brad first. He said something to LT and inclined his head in Brad’s direction. LT immediately turned to look.

When he saw Brad, LT’s eyes lit up and the corner of his mouth began to lift in a smile. He took a step in Brad’s direction then faltered. His smile slipped and he looked back over his shoulder at the twink.

“Are you waiting for an executive order?” Brad called out and LT’s head swiveled back around to look at him. “Get over here and get in the car.”

LT’s smile was genuine as he double-timed it over to the Mustang. Yanking open the door, he slid into the passenger seat and hit the button to close the window.

Brad made a quick right turn and shot off down the street, tailpipes roaring. “Same motel?” he asked.

“Yes,” LT answered and it seemed he was damn near bouncing in the seat.

“What was that bullshit back there?” Brad asked. “When I first pulled up.”

“I realized you weren’t necessarily there to see me,” LT answered, seemingly embarrassed. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“It may have escaped your notice,” Brad said with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “But I don’t frequent your street corner, engaging the twink-of-the-week.”

“I am well aware you are not a regular visitor to that particular corner, _Iceman_.” LT turned to smile at him and Brad’s stomach did a slow roll. “But you strike me as a man who likes variety.”

“For the record,” Brad returned LT’s smile. “There is only one thing on that street corner that interests me.”

“Understood,” LT said simply.

“Check inside here,” Brad instructed, lifting his arm from the center console. “That’s for you.”

LT lifted the lid of the console and looked inside for a long moment. Finally, he reached in and withdrew the folded cash. The outer bill was a crisp, new hundred.

Brad watched from the corner of his eye as LT unfolded the money and fanned out the five hundred dollar bills.

“No,” LT said suddenly, reaching back for the console.

“What?” Brad asked, heart in his throat.

“It’s too much. You over paid, last time.” LT placed two of the bills back into the console and shut it. “This is enough.” He slid the remaining cash into his jeans pocket.

Well, what the fuck was Brad supposed to say to _that_?

“Does that mean no kissing this time?” he finally asked, hiding behind humor.

LT huffed a quiet laugh and dropped his head endearingly. “I’ll still throw in the kissing. Consider it a tip.”

Brad really liked the cheek on this one.

LT directed Brad to a different motel room. Well, different in location. The inside of the room was indistinguishable from the first one. Right down to the cleanliness – or lack of - and the smell.

Brad was barely in the room with the door locked before he was pressed up against it, his arms full of a hot and enthusiastic LT. He didn’t fool himself that the kid had spent the past week as he had; remembering, fantasizing, and fucking craving a repeat performance.

LT was simply giving Brad what he’d paid for, like any good whore. That bright smile earlier; the one that made it seem LT was pleased to see Brad? Well, why the fuck wouldn’t he be happy to see someone who paid well for services rendered, made sure he got to come, and didn’t beat him up just for sport?

Rational thought fled as Brad sank into the sloppy, wet kiss to which LT was subjecting him. The kid’s kisses were so fucking hot; open mouthed and full of tongue and it never ceased to leave them both breathless. LT reached up and grasped the back of Brad’s head and held him steady. The kid changed the angle, licking deep into Brad’s mouth as if salvation waited in the back of Brad’s throat.

Fine. If LT wanted to be in charge of kissing – and why had Brad suddenly decide it was okay to kiss his whores, anyway? – then _he_ was going to oversee the dry humping.

Brad grabbed LT’s hips and brought them in close to his own. He pressed himself forward until he could feel LT’s hardness through his jeans. Brad rotated his hips slightly, rubbing his own erection against the kid’s body. LT’s hips flexed in response. He pressed himself more tightly against Brad. Reaching around, Brad dug his fingers into the firm flesh of LT’s ass and fitted their hips together at just the right angle. He thrust against LT, creating pleasurable sensations against their cocks.

As Brad’s mouth enjoyed LT’s assault, he began to hump himself against the kid. He pumped and thrust, using the door as leverage and LT’s body for friction. He could come just from this: frottage was fucking underrated as a masturbatory tool – as long as you had the consent of the person you rubbed up against – but Brad wasn’t paying for a solo flight. He’d had enough of those, this past week, just thinking about his hot little hustler; the same one practically trying to scale Brad’s body this moment.

LT pulled back from Brad’s mouth, hovering just above it. He breathed against Brad’s lips, dragging his tongue along his lower lip.

“What …” LT hesitated. “What do you want … what should I do?”

Brad struggled to understand the question. He bought himself time by swiping his tongue along LT’s.

“Same as last time?” LT whispered, and then sucked Brad’s tongue into his mouth. “What …?”

Suddenly, Brad realized the cause of LT’s confusion. The kid survived by being able to read people and offer up what they needed and wanted. He was used to being given direct and precise orders to carry out. LT couldn’t get a read on Brad and Brad wasn’t issuing any instructions.

And, Brad knew that good whores – successful whores – didn’t act like lovers and pursue their own pleasure. LT had made a tactical error in pushing Brad up against the door and asserting himself in the kiss, and Brad had let him. Brad had fucking _responded_ like he hadn’t been kissed in a year. Now, Brad’s mixed signals had the kid worried.

“I paid for a few services last time.” Brad grasped LT’s head firmly and pressed him just far enough back that he could clearly see Brad’s eyes. “That I wasn’t able to avail myself of.”

“Do you have a kink or a scene?” LT asked quickly, and _fuck,_ but what had been done to this kid that he reached for the dark side so readily?

“I went and bought un-lubed, flavored condoms so I could suck you off,” Brad said. “Cherry. None of that nasty mint shit you use.”

LT’s mouth turned up slightly at the corners. A light came into his eyes that had Brad’s cock trying to punch straight through the denim of his jeans.

“After you come,” Brad continued. “You’re going to ride my cock so I can lay back and watch you. I want to see my dick slide up inside of you. I want to watch your own cock slap against your belly and your balls press against mine.”

“Okay, okay.” LT had his mission and he was planning his execution, even as Brad watched. “Good, okay.”

“Oh, and LT?” Brad brought the kid in close so he could ghost his lips over LT’s as he spoke. “I’m open to improvisation.”

_That_ got LT’s attention. The kid’s eyes grew round and wide.

Brad pushed off the door and stood at his full height. He walked forward slowly, backing LT toward the bed. When they reached the foot of it, Brad grasped LT’s hips and guided him to sit. He came to his knees between LT’s legs.

He pushed the leather jacket from LT’s shoulders and tossed it aside. Brad slid his hands up under LT’s shirt and skimmed them over soft skin. He lifted the shirt over LT’s head and tossed it after the jacket. Brad wrapped a hand around the back of LT’s neck and pulled him in close. He ran his lips and his tongue over the warm flesh of LT’s chest, up to his shoulder, then along his neck. He felt LT shiver and his breath hitch. Brad reached LT’s ear and nipped at the lobe, inhaling the warm scent of his hair.

Unlacing LT’s boots, Brad slid them from his feet and tucked them under the bed. Then he reached for the waist of LT’s jeans. He felt LT’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Brad popped the button of LT’s jeans and slowly lowered the zip. LT tugged at Brad’s shirt, pulling it up to his shoulders and then over his head.

When Brad would have eased LT’s jeans over his hips, LT stopped the action by leaning forward to run his hands over Brad’s naked back.

He skimmed his palms over Brad’s shoulder blades, down his sides and across the small of his back. LT’s hands were warm and just rough enough to send pleasant sensations rolling up Brad’s spine. He felt LT focus on the ink on his back. Brad’s extensive and sprawling tattoo seemed to have captured LT’s attention, as he traced his fingertips around the shapes and colors imbedded in Brad’s flesh.

“So much skin,” LT whispered and Brad wondered if he even knew he had spoken aloud. “So smooth. Tan.”

“Lift up.” Brad urged, and eased LT’s jeans over his hips and down his thighs. He ran his hands up LT’s legs and just admired the sight. LT’s body was trim and firm. His erection pressed upward toward his belly. Brad leaned forward and blew a soft puff of air across the head.

LT made one of those soft, strangled sounds that made Brad’s dick hard just from memory.

He placed both hands on LT’s chest and pressed him backward onto the bed. Brad took one of LT’s ankles in each hand and lifted his legs. He placed each foot flat on the bed, wide apart. It gave Brad one hell of a fucking view.

He could see the subtle arch in LT’s cock as it lay against his belly. His ball sac hung, full and heavy, from the base of his dick. The sac left the barest hint of his perineum visible. LT’s tight hole clenched under Brad’s gaze, glistening in the dull light of the room. He grazed his thumb over the pucker and heard LT moan softly. Brad was smugly pleased to know that LT had lubed himself and this early in the evening; _no one_ had gotten there before Brad.

Rising up to his knees, Brad dug a condom from his jeans pocket – one of the un-lubed _cherry_ flavored – tore it open and rolled it down LT’s erection. Then, he leaned over LT’s body, gripped his cock with one hand, and swallowed it down.

“Fuck,” LT breathed. “Iceman my ass. Your mouth is hot on my dick.”

Brad sucked hard as he drew back. He fucking loved the dirty talk. Brad cradled LT’s ball sac with his free hand. He juggled them lightly and rolled them together with a slight pressure. LT groaned low in his throat and his feet moved restlessly on the bed. Brad kept his mouth wrapped tightly around LT’s cock, his teeth protected by his lips and his tongue wide and flat. He moved his hand in tandem with his mouth, working LT’s cock with a tight suction.

“_Fuck_, that’s good,” LT groaned, laying one hand gently on Brad’s hair. “S-s-s-uck me. T-t-t-ake my cock all the way down.”

LT’s hesitance was as hot as it was puzzling to Brad. He took LT’s dick as far down his throat as he could. He’d never been motivated to learn the deep-throating tricks most whores knew, but he _was_ pretty fucking spectacular at holding his breath.

As Brad got his lips further and further down the shaft of LT’s cock, he felt the hand in his hair grow bolder.

“Yeah, like that,” groaned LT. “Fucking take it all.”

_There_ was the LT Brad liked. Both of his hands were in Brad’s hair, now. LT pressed his head down slightly as his hips jerked upward.

Brad moved his second hand from LT’s ball sac and slid it down to tease the muscled opening just below. He was tempted to press inward, but he had other plans LT's ass.

He listened to LT’s bold litany of dirty talk. LT’s filthy mouth had finally found its stride and Brad had to admit, he was impressed.

LT’s rhythm faltered slightly and Brad decided it was time. He pulled off to just the head and brought his fingers up to meet his lips. Brad applied the data he had gathered on his recon of LT their first time together. He knew just how LT liked his dick touched to make him come.

Brad kept his lips around the head of LT’s cock and made short strokes along the shaft with a finger and thumb. He sucked hard at the spongy tip and felt LT come up off the bed. His fingers clutched tightly at Brad’s head.

“Oh, Christ, fuck,” LT said in a loud, rough voice. “You’re gonna make me come. You’re making me come.”

LT’s body nearly folded in half as his climax gripped his body. Brad continued to suck through his orgasm, feeling the cock in his mouth spasm with each wave that rocked LT’s body. He felt the heat of LT’s jizz as it flooded the reservoir tip of the condom and he ran his tongue over the trapped fluid.

The hiss LT released was accompanied by a hard convulsion and he tugged at Brad’s hair.

“Too much,” LT gasped.

Brad pulled off and released LT’s cock as it continued to soften. He kissed at LT’s hipbones and the tops of his thighs. LT collapsed bonelessly into the bed.

“Sorry,” LT said in a ragged voice. “Just give me a minute.”

“Nothing here to be sorry for,” Brad said quietly as he slowly rolled the condom off of LT’s dick.

It really was fucked up, Brad mused, that someone so sweet and responsive was conditioned to focus on someone else’s pleasure, to the exclusion of their own. He got to his feet and disposed of the condom, then wet a cloth with warm water. Not that there was a mess to clean up, but Brad felt compelled to look after LT.

Which, in itself, was pretty fucked up.

LT had moved to the head of the bed and was reclined against the pillows. Brad cleaned him quickly, kissing LT’s swollen mouth the entire time. When he returned from the bathroom after disposing of the cloth, LT had retrieved a duffel from somewhere and was extracting some items.

Brad crawled up the bed and lay down next to LT. He looked over the strips of soft fabric in a small pile on the bed. “Starting a sewing circle?” Brad joked. “What’s next? Exchanging brownie recipes?”

LT snorted in response and his smile was wonderful; Brad vowed he'd see it again, every chance he got.

“You said you wanted me to ride you. To ride your cock,” LT ventured.

“That remains the current plan,” Brad answered, reaching down to his own hard-on and stroking it languidly in both reminder and enticement.

“And you’re open to improvisation?” LT asked, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“Am I to assume you have an idea?” Brad was more than a little intrigued.

LT held up the strips of fabric. “I could tie your hands down and blindfold you, just in the beginning. It might make it a little more … intense.”

Brad was sure LT was going to say something else and changed his mind at the last moment. He’d have to explore that later. For now, he had to consider how advisable it would be to take LT’s suggestion. Brad had zero objections to being tied down and blindfolded – just not necessarily by a whore he’d been with exactly twice.

“I’d tie everything loosely so you could get free if you really wanted to,” LT said hastily. “It would be more symbolic.”

_That_ was a subtle distinction and Brad was impressed that LT understood the nature of that dynamic.

“Do I get a partial refund since this is _your_ idea for a special scene?” Brad asked jokingly as he rolled onto his back and extended his hands toward the headboard.

LT’s mouth gaped for a moment before he recognized the humor. His smile lit his entire face and Brad was fucking pleased with himself for choosing correctly. LT tossed the duffel aside and swung a leg over to straddle Brad. He was still grinning, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Brad lifted his head to run his tongue along LT’s breastbone when he leaned over to secure Brad’s wrists to the headboard near the mattress. LT gave a husky laugh, low in his chest, and Brad’s dick twitched in response.

Testing the fabric securing his hands, Brad realized he could easily free himself if he wanted to. If this went right, he wouldn’t want to. LT loosely tied another strip of fabric around his eyes. Brad could see the light of the room and he could make out shapes just around the edges of the cloth. Good enough for what LT intended, Brad was sure.

“Okay?” LT asked, pressing his chest to Brad’s and kissing along his collarbone.

“Mmmm,” Brad answered. “I’ll be even better when you’re riding my cock.”

Brad emphasized his words with an upward thrust of his hips and was rewarded with LT’s throaty laugh.

The bed shifted slightly and Brad heard the drawer of the bedside table open and shut. Quiet paper noises followed and then LT was rolling a condom down Brad’s dick. Through the latex, he felt a cool chill as LT coated the condom in additional lube.

“At this rate, you’re gonna lose out on a tip,” Brad teased, lifting his hips into LT’s hand. “Even with the blindfold I can tell the difference between stroking and riding.”

Brad heard LT’s deep chuckle, then felt him shift his weight. Brad sensed when he was positioned against LT’s opening, and then he was being enveloped by heat.  

Even through the condom, the feel of LT’s body taking in Brad’s cock was exquisite. He groaned and thrust his hips upward until he heard and felt his skin slap against LT’s ass.

“You want a slow, easy fuck, right?” LT asked, his hands came to rest on Brad’s chest for balance. “Or do you want it hard and fast?”

“Whatever you want, just as long as you fuck yourself on my cock,” Brad ground out through clenched teeth.

Not being able to see heightened Brad’s other senses. He could smell the faint odors of the silicon lube, warm latex and the musk of their mingled sweat. Underneath it all was the unmistakable scent of their sex. The feel of LT’s body coming down against his own besieged Brad’s senses. The sounds he made with each pounding thrust; f_uck_ but those sounds should be illegal. There was one he made, low and deep in his throat, which could almost be mistaken for pain but instead bespoke an intense pleasure. The bed rocked with the force of LT’s descent onto Brad’s dick. His ass slapped loudly against Brad’s hips. The best part, for Brad, was the feel of LT’s ball sac as it landed on and brushed against his belly, only to be gone again when LT rose up.

Brad felt LT’s strong hands on his chest, clutching at him, then pushing away for leverage. The way his fingers clenched on Brad’s skin, coupled with the lewd sounds he made, told Brad that LT was as into this as Brad himself was.

He really wanted to see LT. He could just imagine the look of concentration and pleasure on his face as he worked himself on Brad’s cock. He wanted to be able to reach up and run his hands over LT’s defined chest and over his strong thighs. He imagined stroking him off, being covered in his warm spunk.

The unexpected feel of LT’s mouth, hungry and demanding, surprised Brad. He opened wide for LT’s tongue to sweep in and find his own. He pushed at LT’s mouth with his own lips and tongue and heard the needy moan he made.

Brad squinted when the blindfold was torn from his eyes. LT hovered just above him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Do you want to watch me come all over you?” LT gasped.

“Fuck yeah,” Brad answered in a raw, breathless voice.

LT sat up and Brad was suddenly living his own wet dream. LT’s head was thrown back and his eyes were screwed shut in pleasure. His mouth hung open in a silent moan of ecstasy. LT was damp with sweat and flushed with desire and exertion. He was hard again, his cock slapping against his belly. Brad was transfixed by the sight of LT’s balls slapping against his belly with each downward push. They were tight and round and tickled slightly each time they landed on him.

_Fuck it_, but once again this kid had exceeded Brad’s expectations. 

He watched as LT poured lube into his own palm and reached for his cock. Brad swallowed hard at the sight of LT jacking himself over Brad’s belly.

“I’m gonna come on you, okay?” LT asked in a low voice. “I’m gonna come on your chest and your belly while you watch me.”

“Yeah.” Brad didn’t recognize his own voice. “Yeah, do it.”

LT wasn’t playing around. He continued to rock back and forth on Brad’s cock while he used his two-fingered grip on the head of his own dick. His arm moved rapidly and Brad watched LT’s stomach clench and relax as he climbed steadily closer to his climax.

With a loud shout, LT rocked forward on Brad’s dick and came. He watched thick, opaque jets of semen land on his chest and his belly. LT stroked himself through it, making low, rhythmic groans with each pulse of his balls. He was clenched tight around Brad, the muscles of his ass squeezing hard, involuntarily.

LT rocked against Brad just a few more times and Brad was coming, too. His body clenched so hard, he nearly dislodged LT from his perch atop Brad’s dick. He _did_ tear his hands loose from their restraints. Brad grabbed LT’s hips tightly and shoved him downward onto his cock at the same time he arched himself upward.

When Brad finally relaxed and fell backward against the bed, LT leaned forward and patted a hand against his sweaty chest. “Easy there, big guy,” he said, smiling fondly down at Brad. “I guess you got what you were after?”

“Yeah,” Brad managed to say between labored breaths. “Yeah, I did.”

He had, hadn’t he?

LT carefully disengaged from Brad’s cock and slid from the bed. He removed the condom from Brad’s softening dick and disappeared into the bathroom.

Brad took stock. He’d lived a fantasy he’d had about LT. He’d had his ‘one more night’. He should be just about done working LT out of his system. Shouldn’t he?

LT reappeared with a wet cloth and cleaned Brad up. He returned the cloth to the bathroom and settled down beside Brad. He half expected LT to snuggle up and go to sleep like he had last time. Instead, LT stayed propped on one elbow, looking down at Brad. He had that look on his face again, the one where it seemed like he was trying to figure Brad out.

“I have an idea for next Saturday night,” LT said quietly, as if considering his words carefully. “If you get to the corner any earlier, you’re going to beat _me_ there.”

Brad raised an eyebrow at this, but otherwise didn’t react. He didn’t want to think that LT might actually be able to read him. Even just a little.

“Let’s just make this easy for both of us, shall we?” LT shifted and now he and Brad were touching minutely at various points along their bodies. “I’ll come check into my room next week. You get here at sunset. I'll wait for you in the doorway so you know which room to come to.”

“And if I don’t feel like showing up next week?” Even as Brad said the words, he knew where he was going to be at sundown next Saturday.

“If you’re not here by full dark, I’ll head for the street corner and drum up business the old fashioned way,” LT answered, nonplussed.

“Okay,” Brad agreed slowly, though his stomach did a slow roll at the idea of prearranged sex.

LT smiled, and then bounced out of the bed. He started to dress and Brad felt a moment of surprise. He glanced at his watch. It was only 10 pm. LT could easily make another hundred bucks tonight if he hustled his tight ass back to his street corner.

Brad pushed the thought to the back of his brain.

Climbing out of the bed, Brad got dressed, too. LT slid into his leather jacket and held the door open for Brad. They walked to the parking lot together in silence.

“So,” LT said finally, looking up at Brad. “I suppose I might see you next week.” It was a statement, not an interrogative, so Brad left it unanswered.

“Take care of yourself, LT,” Brad said softly, surprisingly not in a hurry to part company.

“You, too, Iceman,” LT said quickly, stretching up to place a last kiss on Brad’s mouth before turning to jog through the motel parking lot.

~*~

They dropped Brad and Walt in the mountains with only the most basic of survival gear. This suited Brad just fine. Walt was competent, for all he was inexperienced. He didn’t need to talk much and he followed every one of Brad’s orders immediately and precisely. He had common sense and exercised good judgment. Brad calculated they’d be at the rendezvous by dawn the day after next.

Brad and Walt crawled and climbed through the mountains, simulating a recon mission. Their objective was to avoid detection and capture, gather intel on their target, email it back to base, then get themselves to the extraction point within the allotted time to catch their chopper out.

His head was in the game this week, just like Lt. Wynn had told him it needed to be. He felt relaxed and focused. Finding LT and getting him out of Brad’s system had been the best course of action. His plan had worked, and Brad didn’t anticipate being at that motel on Saturday. He didn’t need to see LT again.

He didn’t _need_ to but, fuck if he didn't _want_ to.

On the second day of their mission, he and Walt lay on their bellies in the underbrush, waiting for a ‘hunter/killer’ team to pass them by. Brad had no idea how trained Marines could be so fucking loud. 

While they lay there, Brad thought about LT. He was a fucking fantastic piece of tail. It would be the easiest fucking thing to show up at that motel and get himself laid by the most genuine and enthusiastic whore Brad had ever had the occasion to fuck.

It was the arrangement that made Brad uneasy; the expectation that he would show up at the appointed time on the appointed day.

The sound of the ‘hunter/killers’ faded and Brad and Walt began to move toward their objective again.

Walt proved himself to be an excellent Recon Marine. They broke cover just _before_ dawn on the day they were scheduled to extract, signaled with their chemlights, and were the first team back at base. The food and the coffee were hot and fresh; they even had Skittles for Brad.

He was filthy and sleep deprived but he was smugly satisfied with himself. He was also pleased with Walt’s performance and made a point to tell him so.

Twenty-four hours later, Brad was thirty feet under the ocean's surface, reading his compass and navigating from the spot where they had dropped him into the water, blind.

He was alone for this training: his expertise was being tested. Most Recon Marines could SCUBA, but Brad’s training went beyond the scope of most. He had a singular mission to complete.

Brad was disappointed when he found his objective so easily at a depth of nearly ninety feet. They’d sunk a new wreck just for him. He’d gotten so adept at navigating to the existing ones; they were no challenge for him anymore.

Not that this had been any kind of a fucking challenge, either.

He retrieved his target from the bowels of the wreck and rigged it for a simulated detonation. Someone would dive down later to check his work, but Brad wasn’t worried.

All that was left for him to do was to navigate and swim to the correct beach on base. He checked his compass, his air, and the time. Fuck it. He could make this a leisurely swim.

Brad’s mind wandered to his ‘date’ on Saturday night. He laughed at himself inside his own head. Who dated a whore?

That’s when it hit him; just what was bothering him about the arrangement with LT. It felt like a date. It felt like a goddamn _relationship_. Brad didn’t do relationships.

Whores were for sex, and sex only. You negotiated for what you wanted and paid a quantified amount of money for it. No surprises, no disappointments. You both went your own ways at the conclusion of business. No attachments, no complications.

No emotion.

Brad could see the ocean floor beginning to rise up rapidly toward the shore. In just a few moments he’d be exiting the surf, members of his team ready to take his heavy, cumbersome gear.

Fuck it. LT was a pro. He hadn’t told Brad to meet him at a restaurant for dinner. They weren’t going to happy hour together. LT had simply arranged for Brad to skip the curbside pick-up process and get right to the fucking. He had to admire the efficiency of set-up; time and effort saved for both of them. It meant Brad got off sooner and LT could potentially make more money in less time.

Brad felt the surf shift and he got his feet under him so he could stand as the water level dropped. He released his regulator and lifted his facemask. When the surf rolled toward shore again, Brad walked forward with it.

So, he was going to meet LT on Saturday. Now, he just needed to decide what he was going to pay LT to do this time.

~*~

Brad still hadn’t decided on what he wanted to get up to with LT when Friday rolled around and he was halfway up a sheer rock face. The rest of the team was about twenty feet below him, struggling for hand and footholds. At this rate, he was going to rappel right past them on his way back down. He just kept climbing on.

Once he’d gotten his head on straight, Brad had begun to look forward to seeing LT again. Strictly for the sex.

He reached the top of the wall face and hammered in a final piton. He attached a carabineer, hooked in his rope, secured his harness, and sat back to rest. Brad’s arms and legs were shaking. This had been a long and exhausting week. Even his brain was numb.

Lt. Wynn appeared above him, extending a hand down to Brad to help him up the final few feet. 

Wynn walked with Brad to where the rappelling ropes were secured. “Glad to see you got your head screwed on straight this week, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.” Brad couldn’t help the smile.

Wynn returned it. “Fucked it out of your system, did you?”

“For the most part,” Brad agreed.

“Good.” the Lieutenant clapped him on the shoulder before he walked away. “Maybe she’ll give you some celebratory pussy this weekend. You earned it.” he called this last over his shoulder and he walked away, still smiling.

Celebratory pussy was not what was on Brad’s mind these days. A celebratory dick up his ass, maybe.

As Brad hooked into the rope and harness, he leaned out over the edge of the cliff. Maybe he was onto something with the dick up his ass.

~*~

When Brad made his first pass through the motel parking lot, he saw LT leaning in the doorway of a room that was just like all the others. He parked and headed straight in. Their greeting was unspoken, just a meeting of their mouths and tongues. Brad pulled back to strip off LT’s shirt and caught his gaze.

“Fuck me tonight,” he said plainly. “Don’t make me think. Don’t make me decide. Just fuck me.”

LT’s jaw dropped briefly before he recovered and lifted Brad’s shirt over his head. He kissed Brad hard, all tongue, and teeth, and started issuing orders like he’d been born to it.

Brad had spent all week being in charge of teams or team members, exercising his independent judgment, and thinking strategically. He was fucking tired and just wanted out of his own head for a short while. LT proved to be the perfect distraction.

He stripped Brad’s clothing forcefully; shoving his body around if he was slow to comply. LT tossed his own clothes away just as quickly. He grabbed Brad’s arms and legs hard enough to bruise and manipulated him into position.

When Brad was on all fours, face down on the bed with his ass in the air, LT crawled between his open legs, lube and condom in hand.

“I’m going to fuck your ass, Marine,” LT snarled, leaning over to press wet kisses to Brad’s spine. “I’m going to shove my dick up inside you and you’re gonna like it.”

Brad liked it already.

He hissed as LT slid a lubed finger into him without any warning. The shock of the intrusion and the resulting burn felt like heaven. Brad pushed backward into LT’s hand, letting himself be fucked by the single finger.

Two fingers slipped up inside of him and Brad groaned. He was feeling pleasantly stretched when LT crooked a finger and it shot fireworks through Brad’s pelvis and up his spine.

“Such a tight ass,” LT said in a low voice. “I wonder if I can even get my dick in there.”

“You can,” Brad groaned. “I know you can.”

“I’m gonna fuck you til you howl.” Brad was damn near ready to howl already.

LT pulled his fingers out and Brad reflexively tried to follow, wondering at his needy reaction. He groaned in frustration but sighed when the two fingers returned with a fresh coating of lube.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel me in the back of your throat.” Brad fucking hoped so.

LT slid his fingers out and, before Brad could protest, slid his dick in. His body protested at first, his asshole clamping down hard. It hurt, but not really. Brad gripped the pillow beneath his head and tried to steady his breathing. He wanted to relax around the cock up his ass, make it comfortable so LT could start fucking him.

Brad didn’t get the chance. LT grabbed his hips in a tight grip, shoved him into position, and began to pound. LT fucked him like a man should fuck, like a Marine fucked. It was hard and rough and loud. His hips slammed into Brad’s ass, the resulting smack sounded lewd. LT chanted filth at Brad as he fucked him. He called Brad dirty names, accused him of being a slut for cock. With each thrust, Brad felt like he might split apart. It was a harsh fucking, deep and fast.

LT shifted his grip and held Brad’s hip with one hand and his shoulder with the other. Tomorrow, Brad would be embarrassed by the noises he was making tonight. He face was pressed to the pillow beneath him and each time LT bottomed out in his ass, Brad let out a cry high pitched enough to surprise himself.

The tip of LT’s cock just grazed over Brad’s prostate instead of hammering it and it held him right on the edge. He was so close to coming but couldn’t quite seem to get there. His ass was burning and he loved it. His cock was so hard it ached and his balls were heavy and full between his legs.

LT's shout as he came was loud and guttural and it ended with him releasing deep growls through clenched teeth. Brad’s cock slapped against his belly at the sound and he wanted to reach for it. LT had him pressed so hard into the mattress he couldn’t find his balance, so he could fist his own dick.

Brad hissed when LT pulled out of his ass. Cold-lubed fingers replaced LT’s heated cock. Three of them. Brad gasped. LT’s second hand, also lubed, gripped his sensitized cock in a firm fist and stroked.

His cry was strangled in his throat when LT pressed down firmly with all three fingers. He didn’t just rub at Brad’s prostate; he fucking massaged it for all he was worth. Brad was trapped between LT’s fingers in his ass, rubbing him so that electrical shocks ran through his entire body, leaving him shuddering and shaking in reaction; and LT’s hand on his dick, jacking him with intent.

Brad came so hard his vision blurred. He’d never experienced anything like it; not even that time that Australian whore had a dildo up his ass …

LT helped him ease down flat on the bed. Brad was peripherally aware he was lying in a cold, wet puddle of his own come. He really didn’t give a fuck at this point. He felt LT cleaning him up, shifting him around, and trying to make him comfortable. Brad wanted to help but he just couldn’t function. He felt LT settle on the bed beside him. A soft hand ran through his hair.

“It’s okay,” LT said softy. “You can sleep for a little while.”

When Brad woke with a start, LT was sitting beside him, fully dressed.

“Feel better?” he asked with a genuine smile.

“Yeah,” Brad confessed. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good.” LT hesitated. “Listen I don’t _want_ to rush you …”

Brad glanced at his watch and whispered, “Shit.” It was ten o’clock. He either needed to let LT get back to the street or pay for his time. Brad stood to dress.

Withdrawing his wallet, Brad counted out several twenty-dollar bills. “That’s for fucking me, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” LT rejoined. “My pleasure, I assure you.”

“How much does this room cost you for the night?” Brad asked.

LT shrugged. “Fifty bucks.”

Brad counted out sixty dollars in twenties. He added a hundred dollar bill. “That’s for watching me sleep.” He slid his wallet back into his jeans.

“You don’t have to …” LT started to protest.

Brad help up his hand to stop him. “I took up your time.”

“So,” LT said, following Brad out the door. “Did this arrangement work for you?”

Brad stopped to think about it. He had to admit that it had.

“Yeah,” he answered thoughtfully.

“Same time next week?” LT asked and, if Brad didn’t know better, he’d think he was blushing.

“Agreed.” Brad ran the back of his hand softly down LT’s cheek and noticed when his eyes widened fractionally. “Take care of yourself, LT.”

“You do the same, Iceman.”

Brad watched him jog across the parking lot and disappear into the dark.


	3. No, He's Not The Least Bit Invested

Brad slept the sleep of the dead Saturday night. He didn’t awaken until an hour after sunup, which he hadn’t done – without a fucking hangover – in at least a decade.

He spent a lazy Sunday cooking, cleaning his house, mowing his lawn, and tinkering on his motorcycle. Brad felt good. He felt relaxed and at peace.

Brad reviewed the previous week’s exercises and was satisfied with his quick mental assessment of the results. He himself had met and exceeded the expectations set for him. His teams had all accomplished the tasks set for them. There’d been zero casualties. Brad felt a great sense of pride in his teams.

It only made sense that his mind would occasionally stray to a cheap motel room and the wicked cock and fingers of a pretty little street whore. The sex had been fantastic and LT’s responsiveness kept it from feeling as much like the business transaction it was. Brad wasn’t as preoccupied with LT as he had been the week before, but there was an undeniable sense of pleasure that settled over him whenever he remembered the night before.

It wasn’t all about the sex.

As Brad realized this, he felt his chest tighten. LT’s smile, his laugh, the smoothness of his skin and the scent of his body, his sense of humor and the way he seemed to innately read Brad’s thoughts and moods – he liked LT, and fuck if Brad ever _liked_ anybody.

He knew LT was smart. Brad suspected that he could tell LT all about the training exercises last week and he’d not only comprehend their activities, but he’d find humor in the same things Brad did.

He didn’t like the feeling of the gut punch _that_ thought gave him. Brad needed to stop thinking about LT right the fuck now. He was never going to see him again, anyway.

When Brad crawled into bed that night, he knew he was tired enough to just drop off, but daylong thoughts of LT had him semi-hard. When he jacked off this time, it didn’t have the same desperate edge it had the week before.

LT had fucked him too well for that to be the case. Instead, Brad stroked his own cock slow and languid. He tried out LT’s preferred two-fingered grip on just the head and gasped at the sensations that rocketed through his system.

How the fuck had that sweet little whore figured _that_ out?

Brad came comfortably into his fist. The image that sent him over was LT beneath him, writhing and clutching as Brad fucked him. The final straw was LT looking right into Brad’s eyes and _seeing_ him.

Maybe Brad would take a drive tomorrow evening, see what was happening on a certain street corner. One more time wouldn’t matter.

~*~

The company tried to get him to go drinking with them Monday night. They had much to celebrate with the release of their stats from the week before.

“Yo, dog,” Sgt. Antonio ‘Poke’ Espera said, as he walked with Brad to where he’d parked his bike. “How can we celebrate without our Team Leader?”

“The same way you’d celebrate _with_ your team leader,” Brad answered. “Get drunk and swap lies about the sizes of your dicks.”

“So when you gonna bring her around for us to meet, bro?” Poke asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Brad was genuinely confused and that pissed him off.

“The fine piece of ass that’s got you eatin’ out of her hand.” Poke’s face wore a knowing smirk.

Brad shook his head but he swallowed hard. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He didn’t want to discuss this. He wasn’t going to share the details of his personal life and he wasn’t in the mood to be evasive.

“You ain’t come out to party with us since Walt’s birthday,” Poke ticked off his points on is fingers. “You’ve blown us all off for two weeks, you ain’t rippin’ on the stupidity of Command with the regularity you once did and now you’re bailin’ on your teams without givin’ a good goddamn reason.”

“Because I would rather drink at home with my own collection of high quality porn,” Brad said as he straddled his bike in preparation for firing it up. “Where I can roll into bed without the danger of getting pulled over by an overzealous cop, instead of suffering with the piss you all call beer and listening to your whiskey-tango bullshit lies, you think it has to do with pussy?”

“Not just _pussy_,” Poke said. “A _magic _pussy.”

Brad wondered what the guys would say if they found out it was a dick that had him bailing out on them. A dick, two very green eyes and the best cocksucking mouth Brad had encountered in so long he couldn’t fucking remember.

“Whatever, dog.” Poke dismissed Brad with the wave of a hand. “But when Ray drunk dials you tonight and you don’t answer, we’ll know it’s about a pussy.”

Brad shook his head in disbelief and put his helmet on. Poke turned and walked away when Brad started the motorcycle, giving a negligent wave over his shoulder.

~*~

It was full dark by the time Brad reached the corner of the street. It was Monday night and there were significantly fewer people and cars in the vicinity. There were no cars in front of him two lights before his goal.

As Brad sat at a traffic light, he impatiently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He was already looking ahead, trying to spot the familiar figure of LT. As the light grew longer and he couldn’t see his target, Brad grew agitated.

The light turned green and he crossed the intersection. The next light tried to turn on him so Brad ran the fucking yellow. He braked hard in front of his goal, and scanned the bodies all standing at the street corner.

No sign of LT. _Fuck_.

Brad glanced around quickly, thinking to catch sight of LT just getting to the corner or … coming back from a trick. Nothing.

The light changed and Brad crossed the intersection, quickly strategizing his next step. He decided to circle back and see if LT had shown up.

Several long moments later he was back at the corner. The older twink he’d previously seen talking to LT was there, but no sign of LT himself.

Brad knew he couldn’t make another pass without the risk of calling attention to himself. Glancing around, a plan suddenly formed. He drove several blocks before circling back to the street behind the café across from LT’s usual corner.

Silently grateful he’d brought his laptop, Brad took a seat at a table with a clear view out the large picture window. He ate, drank coffee, surfed the web, and answered email while waiting for LT to show.

While Brad conducted his recon mission, he gathered intel on those hanging around the street corner. Twink was a talker. He’d chat up anyone who gave him the time of day. He also climbed into several cars, only to return ten or fifteen minutes later. A very young looking twink - the same one from Brad’s first night with LT, he thought – showed up. He leaned tensely against the building on the corner. A middle-aged man approached him on foot. They talked for several minutes before the man put an arm around the twink and led him out of sight.

Brad watched tensely as an older boy – more of a young man – refused to leave with a guy who appeared to be just a little older than he was himself. The man grabbed the boy’s arm and tried to drag him off. The boy jerked his arm free and shouted something Brad couldn’t hear. The other hustlers on the corner all descended on the man, driving him back down the street.

Brad checked his watch; nine p.m. and no LT.

It occurred to Brad then that it was Monday and LT might not show up at all. He couldn’t work seven nights a week, why wouldn’t a slow Monday be a night he stayed home? Then again, Twink had gone off a few times so there was _some_ money to be made on a Monday night. Brad decided to wait a little longer.

His mind began to wander to other reasons LT might not be on the corner. Brad had arrived early in the evening and paid good money to have LT to himself for several hours. It was conceivable someone else had the same idea.

Brad’s jaw and fists clenched at the idea.

LT could have a Monday night regular. He was quick to secure Brad’s agreement for a meet up, a smart whore would line up as much guaranteed money as possible. Brad’s stomach turned at the thought.

What if LT had a boyfriend – or a girlfriend – with whom he spent slow nights? He was entitled to some semblance of a normal life, regardless of his chosen profession. Brad looked at his watch. Ten p.m. Was LT, at this very moment, fucking someone with whom he had a relationship? Someone for whom he had feelings?

Brad realized his leg was bouncing violently.

At eleven o’clock, Brad called it a night. He packed up his laptop and retrieved his car. As he headed home, Brad couldn’t shake the new thought that had occurred to him. What if LT _couldn’t_ make it to the street corner tonight? Had he worked last night and had a run in with the kind of violent trick that had caused him the brief moments of anxiety Brad had witnessed?

He’d check for LT tomorrow night and if he didn’t show up … well, Brad would decide then what to do.

He almost didn’t make it off base the next day without murdering a fellow Marine. Ray started it all by accusing Brad of being on his period. Poke smirked at him and asked if the pussy had dried up. Garza almost got himself dead when he joked that maybe she’d dumped Brad and run off with an Army Ranger. He knew it was a joke but it struck too close to home and Brad had to work to rein in his temper.

When the day ended, he couldn’t get to his bike fast enough.

Brad showered and changed quickly then headed out in his car. The route was almost muscle memory now. He was deep in thought when he realized he was almost at his destination and couldn’t remember the drive.

He had no idea what he was going to do if LT was a no show again. How the fuck could he begin to try to find him? He didn’t know LT’s real name, where he lived, his age, nothing.

LT wasn’t at the corner. _Fuck_. Brad decided to cruise side streets and alleys. There were couples parked in cars and pairs of figures in shadows but no sign of LT.

Next, Brad drove through the parking lot of the motel but he didn’t see LT. He didn’t know if he owned a car; let alone what kind it might be.

He drove back by the corner and didn’t see LT, so Brad set up his recon in the café again.

Older Twink wasn’t around tonight, but the young twink was. Business for the hustlers wasn’t brisk, but it was steady. Brad wondered what he could find out if he went and stood on the corner. He doubted he could get any of them to talk to him, but he had to try.

Brad stashed his laptop in his car, zipped up his jacket, and walked across the street. He stopped several feet away from the clustered group of prostitutes and leaned against the wall. He could easily hear their louder conversations but when they spoke in more hushed tones, Brad had no idea what they were saying.

He worked his way closer to the group. When Brad was close enough to hear their quieter conversations, he was also close enough to raise their suspicions. The hustlers began to eye him closely and stopped talking all together.

Brad gave up and crossed back to the café. He bought a coffee and sat watching out the window. He doubted LT would be off the street for two nights in a row. It wasn’t as busy as a Saturday night but there were enough Johns coming by, he should be able to make a couple of hundred bucks.

His watch read eleven p.m. and Brad knew it was time to give up for the night. As he drove home, he started to wonder what he hoped the explanation would turn out to be. He did _not_ want LT hurt or … _fuck_, what if he’d been arrested? Christ.

The answers that were best for LT were a well-paying regular client or a boyfriend – or girlfriend – but Brad hoped neither of those were the case. He didn’t want to think about anything that would prevent LT from being available when Brad wanted him to be.

_This_ was why Brad dealt with escort services. You could call ahead and make sure who you wanted was available. Not knowing was a motherfucking bitch.

Brad decided that if, tomorrow night, LT hadn’t shown up by eight p.m., he was going to make one of the twinks talk.

As it turned out, Brad’s idea to make one of the twinks tell him where LT was – if he was okay – failed miserably. Something Brad wasn’t used to.

He tried to appear friendly and non-threatening when he approached some of the older whores. This was a tall order, given Brad’s height, but he tried. The hustlers were friendly but not forthcoming. They exchanged looks frequently and Brad could tell they were withholding information but he couldn’t persuade them to trust him. They flirted with him and they propositioned him, but they never gave him anything useful. They all told Brad they didn’t know anyone named ‘LT’, nor did they recognize his description. He knew they were lying but short of pressing his K-Bar to their throats, what could he do? Besides, he strongly suspected LT would be very pissed if he found out Brad was threatening and scaring his fellow whores.

His temper was short by the time the older twink put in an appearance. Brad wasted no time in approaching him.

“You know who I am?” Brad asked Twink.

The bright smile Twink bestowed on him did nothing for him. It was nothing like LT’s genuine one.

“Now, aren’t you a tall drink of water, honey?” Twink said, cocking a hip. “Lookin’ for a date?”

“You recognize me from the past two Saturdays, don’t you?” Brad persisted.

“You’re LT’s big score,” Twink said, an edge to his smile now.

“Whatever,” Brad replied. “Where is he?”

“Where is who, sugar?” Twink feigned innocence.

“Where is LT?” Brad resisted the urge to wrap his fingers tightly around the twink’s throat.

“Oh, he’s around somewhere,” he answered with a negligent wave. “But I’d be happy to keep you occupied tonight, big man.”

“Just tell me where I can find him,” Brad pressed.

“Would if I could, baby.” Twink’s smile faded all together.

“Then just tell me when the last time you saw him was.” Brad was growing angry and impatient.

“Why, gettin’ into the car with you, sweetheart.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Twink’s mouth.

Brad had about fucking had it with being blocked and deflected. “If you’ve seen him since then, just tell me if he’s okay?”

“After a night with you, Thor,” Twink stepped in close and openly eyed Brad’s crotch. “He was probably walking on cloud fucking nine.”

“Does he usually work tonight?” Brad refused to be put off. “Will he be around tomorrow night?”

“Maybe you fucked him raw and he needed a short vacation?” Twink reached for Brad’s cock and he quickly batted his hand away.

“If he’s in any kind of trouble and you’re not telling me,” Brad said, leaning in close. “I’ll snap your neck.”

Brad turned on his heel and headed back to his car. He wasn’t going to find anything out tonight. Tomorrow, he was going to find out what he needed to know or someone was going to get hurt.

~*~

On Thursday night, Brad didn’t even drive by the corner; he headed straight for the café and parked his car. He could tell the weekend was close, the crowds were growing larger, and traffic was getting heavier.

Brad was crossing the street to LT’s corner when he saw him. Brad’s heart rate kicked into double time and he began to jog the rest of the way across the intersection. He was aware of the large number of hustlers gathered tonight but his attention was focused solely on LT. As Brad drew close, he assessed LT’s condition. He looked fine. He appeared uninjured and healthy.

Before Brad could reach LT, a group of the larger and older whores placed themselves between him and his objective. That pissed Brad the fuck off.

LT’s head was lowered toward Twink as they carried on an intense conversation. The commotion Brad created as he shouted at the hustlers, tried to push through them, got LT’s attention. His head snapped up and his eyes found Brad’s unerringly.

At the same time, Twink turned on Brad, adding his voice and angry gestures to the melee. One of the whores put his hands on Brad’s chest and Brad grabbed the guy’s wrists. It was about to get ugly when LT’s voice rose above the din.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he shouted, tugging at arms and shoulders as he muscled his way through the crowd toward Brad. “Back up, back it up. Step the fuck off!”

This last was shouted in a tone that even had Brad snapping to.

The crowd moved away, leaving Brad and Twink squaring off. The kid had to know Brad could break him in two with a look but still, he stood his ground, ready to defend and protect LT. Fuck, if that wasn’t some serious loyalty.

Brad had to wonder just how LT commanded such loyalty. This was yet another thing Brad was damn well going to find out.

LT inserted himself between Brad and Twink, a hand on each of their chests.

“Okay, let’s all calm down here, gents,” LT said, looking from one to the other. “I’m okay. It’s all okay.” LT’s voice was calm and it didn’t encourage argument.

LT turned briefly to Twink and said something to him in a low voice. He kept his hand on Brad’s chest. Whatever LT said, Twink immediately relaxed and stepped back. LT gave him a curt nod, and turned back to Brad.

“Let’s go somewhere,” LT said to him, grabbing his arm and turning him away from the scene of the recent altercation.

“My car’s across the street,” Brad said, leading the way to the café parking lot.

As Brad crossed the street, he was very aware of LT walking beside him, still gripping his arm tightly. As they departed the recent field of battle, Brad allowed himself to feel a sense of relief at finding LT, apparently unharmed. Three days of tension and worry threatened to overwhelm him at the same time a wave of utter joy washed over him.

When they reached the parking lot, Brad shook free of LT’s grip and instead, grabbed onto _his _arm. He disarmed the car’s alarm but didn’t open the door. Instead, he pushed LT against the side of the vehicle and began to run his hands over his body.

Brad started at LT’s head, weaving his fingers through the soft brown strands of hair. “Three fucking days I couldn’t find you. I was fucking worried.”

“I know, I know,” LT answered calmly, letting himself be pressed against the car. “I’m okay, I’m _okay_.”

“Fucking dangerous life you lead.” Brad skimmed his fingers down LT’s face and then along his neck and throat. “You could have taken a beating, been laid out in a hospital bed or a slab in the morgue and _I wouldn’t have fucking known._”

“I know, I understand,” LT chanted in a low voice. “But I’m okay.”

Brad lifted LT’s shirt and ran his hands over his ribs and belly, checking for bandages or bruises. “I just wanted someone to tell me you didn’t usually come out on certain nights.” He kept talking, almost to himself, as he turned LT slightly to check his back. “They wouldn’t tell me a goddamn thing about you.”

“I know, but I’m okay,” LT kept his voice low and level and Brad could feel it starting to sink in. “I’m here now and I’m okay.”

“I drove down alleys,” Brad said fiercely, holding LT’s head with both hands and making him meet Brad’s eyes. “Looking for your battered body. All I could think was that one of those _bastards _that made you so jumpy got a little ambitious with his fists.”

“Who named you ‘Iceman’?” LT asked, the corner of his mouth trying to lift in a smile. “They got it all wrong, didn’t they?”

“This is not a joke, LT!” Brad barked.

“I know it’s not,” he replied quickly. “But it’s escalating quickly and I just want you to calm down a little.”

Brad felt the truth of LT’s words as he became aware of his own harsh breathing. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to LT’s, letting his comforting calm seep into Brad’s veins. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to LT’s.

It wasn’t a chaste kiss, but it was devoid of their usual passion and desperation. It was a kiss of relief and of comfort.

“Do you have your room for the night?” Brad whispered against LT’s lips.

“Yes, but …” LT hesitated and Brad pulled back to look at him searchingly. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Two minutes ago you were ready to tear Kit apart.”

Brad pressed his body into LT’s and forced him to meet his eyes. “Violence is a tool for me, not a lifestyle. It’s not a tool I would use on _you_.”

“Okay, okay,” LT breathed against Brad’s mouth before tilting his face up to kiss him. “Let’s go.”

Brad yanked open the car door and tucked LT into the passenger seat before closing it. As he walked around to his own door, Brad took several deep breaths. He willed his heart to stop hammering and his hands to stop shaking.

Iceman indeed.

He slid behind the wheel of the car and pulled into traffic, heading for the motel.

“I don’t come out Monday through Wednesday,” LT said quietly as they drove.

“Okay,” Brad acknowledged.

“Kit was in the middle of telling me you’d come looking for me when you showed up,” LT explained. “You got there before I could tell the guys you’re okay. You scared them and they thought they were protecting me.”

“It’s good you look out for each other,” Brad said, understanding what it was LT was really telling him.

“I’ll tell them,” LT said firmly. “And if you come looking for me again they’ll be more cooperative.”

“I knew you might just stay home on slow nights but I couldn’t confirm it and …” Brad trailed off, suddenly realizing how badly he may have overreacted. He also remembered his theory about LT being in some sort of relationship.

“You’re right,” LT conceded. “Anything can happen out here.”

They were both silent for a long while before LT spoke again. “I like that you came looking for me. I like that you worried.”

Brad almost couldn’t hear him he spoke so softly. He nodded in reply, not sure what to say.

No sooner had the door to the motel room shut then LT was in Brad’s arms, kissing him fiercely. The force of his assault clacked their teeth together and Brad thought he tasted blood on his lips. LT took a step backward toward the bed and Brad followed, seeking to keep their mouths connected. As they slowly crossed the room, they each stripped away their own clothing. Shoes connected with walls and shirts fell behind furniture but neither of them cared, in their haste to be naked with each other.

At the edge of the bed LT hesitated. Brad pressed him back and down into the mattress. LT went eagerly. He settled himself between LT’s open thighs and pressed their chests together. Brad needed to feel the heat of LT’s live and unblemished skin against his own. He needed contact at as many points as he could manage.

Brad licked into LT’s mouth deeply. He dragged his tongue along the roof of his mouth and felt the sharpness of his teeth. He lapped at LT’s tongue, urging him to meet Brad every step of the way.

He sat back on his heels and jerked open the bedside table. Brad took out the lube bottle and a condom. He pushed LT’s knees up toward his chest to give himself an unobstructed view of his goal.

Brad coated one finger with slick and slid it straight into LT’s clenching hole. LT sucked a harsh breath in through his teeth. Brad fucked his finger in and out, spreading the lube. He circled around, feeling all the walls of LT’s tight channel and making sure they were covered. He pulled his hand free and slicked two fingers before pressing them straight in. LT groaned. Brad twisted his fingers to spread the lube. He was focused on his mission; he wasn’t taking his time tonight. He lubed LT’s ass with purpose.

“Hurry,” LT panted. “Please hurry.”

Satisfied with the loose slickness of LT’s hole, Brad tore open the condom and rolled it onto his cock with trembling hands. He lined himself up, and then lay down to cover LT’s body with his own. Brad pressed their mouths together, lips open and tongues meeting, and then he gave a single powerful thrust of his hips.

LT cried out at the abrupt invasion but Brad swallowed it down. He felt LT wrap his legs around his waist and hips. Brad hooked his arm under one leg, trapping it in the crook of his elbow and holding LT wide open for his pistoning hips.

Brad poured all the fear, anxiety, frustration, anger, and relief of the last three days into his pounding rhythm. He had LT back safe and sound, _fuck _if Brad wasn’t going to mark _his _goddamn territory.

He pulled back and looked down into LT’s luminous face. His eyes were feverish, cheeks flushed and his mouth was wet and red and swollen. _Fuck _if he didn’t just look _claimed_.

Brad grazed his lips along LT’s jaw. “So scared for you, LT,” he said in a broken voice.

“Na … Na … t …” LT tried to speak, his words broken by each of Brad’s brutal thrusts.

Pulling back, Brad searched LT’s face. “What was that?”

“Nate,” LT gasped. “Name is Nate.”

Brad felt his heart explode in his chest. A wide smile spread across his face and he buried his nose in the sweaty hair behind LT’s – no, _Nate’s_ – ear.

“Pleasure to meet you, Nate,” Brad whispered into his skin. “My name’s Brad.”

“Brad,” Nate said brokenly. “Brad.”

At the sound of his name, his real name, on Nate’s lips, Brad pressed upward slightly and reached between their bodies. He wrapped his hand around Nate’s straining cock and stroked it quickly.

Nate groaned, “Ah, fuck, Brad.”

He shifted slightly and gripped the head of Nate’s dick, focusing on the tip and swiping his thumb through the collected moisture.

“Oh god, Brad,” Nate said his name on a moan and it sounded like he was tasting it, savoring it, each time he spoke it.

“Come, Nate,” Brad whispered as he jacked Nate’s cock. “Come for me, Nate.”

Brad couldn’t say that name enough. He held it on his tongue and swirled his around his mouth and kept it close.

“That’s it, Nate,” he chanted as he stroked. “Come for me. Let me feel you come, Nate. God, you’re so fucking hot. Come on, Nate. Let it go.”

Nate arched into Brad, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing back his head. His hands clutched at Brad’s shoulders, pulling their bodies closer. His entire frame began to quiver before Brad felt the first twitch in his cock. Nate’s body shuddered along his entire length just before the first jet of come shot from the tip of his dick.

He released a pained sob as his body rocked against Brad’s. With each breath he managed to suck in, he made a sound of utter abandonment that Brad felt all the way down in his own cock. He stroked Nate through his climax, milking every last drop of come from his body.

“Good, Nate, good,” Brad moaned. “Come all over me, just like that. Let me have all of it.”

“Oh, Christ, Brad,” Nate choked out.

Nate’s body collapsed against the bed. He was breathing heavily, like he’d just sprinted a mile. Brad continued to fuck, watching closely as emotions rolled across Nate’s face like a film only Brad could see.

When Nate opened his eyes and looked up at Brad, he looked like a man whose reality had just shifted. Nate’s entire frame of reference had just taken one giant step to the left and, to Brad, he looked fucking _shattered_.

That look kicked Brad in the gut and shoved him over the edge into his own climax. With one final, brutal thrust into Nate’s body, Brad came hard. He groaned into Nate’s neck, feeling himself twitch and throb inside of Nate’s ass. His balls pulsed as they emptied out and Brad’s toes curled at the sensation.

When Brad collapsed, he made sure to fall to the side enough to let Nate breathe. Neither of them moved for an interminable time. They lay struggling to control their breathing, hands running over flushed and sweaty skin.

Finally, Brad pulled out and removed the condom. There was no fucking way he was getting out of this bed right now so he tied it off and chucked it to the floor. It wasn’t like this room was clean, anyway.

He rolled onto his back beside Nate. They were touching at their shoulders, their hands, and lower legs. It was comfortable. It was nice.

Brad contemplated the last few days as he stared blankly at the ceiling. So much had happened. So much more had happened in the last hour.

“_Nate_, huh?” Brad said. “Is that short for Nathan?”

“Actually, Nathaniel,” Nate replied.

“_Nathaniel_?” Brad scoffed. “Were your parents some sort of east coast liberal, dope-smoking, intellectual, hippie fucks who thought it was clever to select names from outdated American literature.”

“More or less, yeah,” Nate laughed.

“No wonder you go by Nate,” Brad said, smiling.

“So, Brad, huh?” Nate turned his head to watch Brad. “Is that short for Bradley?”

“Yes,” Brad growled. “And if my parents had given me a name any _more_ pretentious, I would never have forgiven them.”

“This I am sure of,” Nate chuckled.

“Are you really from the east coast?” Brad wondered how much information he could extract during pillow talk.

“Yep.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a clichéd wannabe who left home for fame and fortune and got sucked up by the big bad world at large.” Nate seemed entirely too smart for that. “Found yourself on the street and had to start turning tricks.”

“No,” Nate’s smile was probably the most beautiful thing Brad had seen in a long while. “I came out here for another reason, altogether.”

When Nate didn’t continue, Brad knew he’d found his informational limit.

“I used to have regular jobs,” Nate said unexpectedly. “In fact, I used to wait tables at the café where you parked, tonight.”

“What happened?” Brad’s curiosity was genuine.

“I used to work more days, longer hours and for less money,” Nate’s tone was matter-of-fact. “One night I was standing on our usual street corner waiting for the light so I could cross and some guy asked me if I was a fifty-dollar whore.”

“What did you say?” the mental picture was humorous but, at the same time, left Brad feeling uneasy.

“I told him that I was a hundred-dollar whore and expected him to move on. Instead, he offered me fifty dollars to blow him.”

“I take it you did?” for a brief moment, Brad hated all the men who’d gotten there before him.

“Fifty bucks for ten minutes on my knees. I was lucky to make that after six hours on my feet.”

The disparity was not lost on Brad.

“I work four nights a week from dark until around midnight. I make about two-hundred on Thursday; three-hundred on Friday; close to five-hundred on Saturday and Sunday is a crap shoot but can sometimes pay pretty well.”

Brad saw Nate’s point, but the idea of someone of Nate’s intelligence and attractiveness whoring on a street corner threw his universe slightly off center.

They lay in comfortable silence for another long while before Brad spoke again.

“Did you say that little twink’s name was _Kit_?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” Nate said around a laugh. “He used to have a regular who just wanted him to sit in his lap and purr while he pet Kit’s head. No sex, just snuggling, purring, and petting. Everybody started calling him Kitty Cat until eventually it just became Kit.”

“He was ready to take me on in defense of you,” Brad mused. “He’s got balls, that one.”

“Yeah,” Nate agreed languidly. “Sometimes he’s got more guts than sense.”

“That much was apparent,” Brad concurred.  Still, he was impressed that Nate engendered such a willingness to sacrifice in others.

“All we have to protect us is each other,” Nate said distractedly. “Our little group gets targeted a lot.”

“Why is that?” Brad’s concern began to rise again.

“When I first started tricking,” Nate said on a sigh. “A couple of local pimps tried to force me into their stables. Fuck that. My mouth, my ass; my money.”

Brad was more than a little aroused by that defiant, independent streak in Nate.

“The guys on my corner fell in with me but it hasn’t been easy. We’re constantly under threat and some of us have taken beatings. We’re just cautious and careful.”

“Understood.” Brad knew exactly what he’d do if he ever got his hands on someone abusing Nate.  “Is your life better since you’ve been doing this?”

Nate snorted a laugh. “Hell yeah. There were nights I went to bed so hungry my stomach hurt, but I was so broke I couldn’t afford a bag of chips from the vending machine. Now I eat when and what I want. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be so hungry it hurts, and not be able to eat?”

Brad thought back to his time in theater; the heat, the cold, the filth, and one meal per day. Brad’s 3,500-calorie per day body was only taking in about a thousand calories. Yeah, he knew what that felt like.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Never again,” Nate sighed.

Brad nodded his understanding of Nate’s conviction.

“So,” Nate said after a time. “We still on for Saturday?”

“Yes, we are,” Brad answered, propping himself on an elbow. “You sound as if you’re going somewhere now.”

“Gotta hit the street,” Nate said as he sat up. “Shake my cute little ass for my money.”

Brad’s gut clenched at Nate’s flippant description.

“Not after the three days I’ve had,” Brad snapped. “There’s two hundred bucks in my wallet that I will use to buy your time tonight. Now lay your cute little ass back down.”

Nate’s eyes bore holes into Brad. “You’re a Marine, you can’t afford to keep throwing money at me like you have been.”

“I’m not just a Marine …” Brad argued but Nate cut him off.

“I didn’t say you were _just_ a Marine, I wasn’t minimizing what you do …” it was Brad’s turn to cut Nate off.

“I didn’t think you were, what I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not just any other grunt,” Brad nearly shouted the last.

“Just what kind of grunt are you, then?” Nate asked, his eyebrows rising.

“I’m a Reconnaissance Marine, I’m more highly trained than almost anyone in any branch of the military. I’m a Recon Marine _Sergeant_, Nate. I get paid for my rank, for hazardous duty, for supervising three teams of five men each and my re-enlistment bonus was pretty impressive this last year.”

“So, what exactly are you telling me, _Sergeant_?” Nate asked, sliding down onto his elbow to mirror Brad.

“I can afford to pay for the privilege of having your cute ass at my disposal tonight. And Saturday night. And the Saturday after that.”

Nate’s smile wavered slightly and Brad figured he’d pushed it far enough. He watched as Nate’s eyes flicked away briefly then back up to his. His smile was suddenly back.

“Well, you _were_ pretty hot trying to fight your way through the crowd to get to me, earlier.” Nate’s eyes and voice were teasing. “It was like some Viking warrior coming to carry me off and ravish me.”

“That is such a pussy fantasy, Nate,” Brad laughed. “And to shatter it further … I’m Jewish.”

Nate pressed Brad backward into the mattress as he leaned over to kiss him. “So, how do you feel about a little role play, Brad?”

“I charge extra for special scenes.”

“That’s okay, I have two-hundred dollars coming to me.”

“Jag skulle vilja ha en öl, tack.”

~*~

“Brad, you guys successfully demonstrated the validity of a new manner of warfare.” Nate was pulling on his clothes as he talked. “You took control of Mesopotamia in a month with zero fatalities.”

“It was a goat-fuck from day one,” Brad replied, pulling his shirt over his head.

“No, it was only a goat-fuck _after_ they failed to implement a plan for infrastructure support and rebuilding,” Nate argued, stepping into his jeans.

“They used us; highly trained, elite independent operators as cannon fodder.” Brad couldn’t help the bitterness he still felt.

“There was no blueprint for this type of battle plan,” Nate persisted. “As ‘independent operators’, as you say, you’re used to thinking on your feet and adapting to changing situations. Who better to send?”

“You closet liberal communist,” Brad said with a smile, sitting on the bed to tie his boot. “I should have known.”

“You wound my Republican heart.” Nate sat beside him to tie off his own boot. “Where they let you down was in not sending enough translators, refusing to let you patrol and police once you had control of Baghdad, and not providing basic necessities to the people you liberated.”

“Spoken like a pussy civilian who’s never seen combat.” Brad nudged Nate’s shoulder with his own. He wondered where Nate had gotten his information. He was well informed and had some insightful opinions. Certainly not what Brad would expect from someone earning his or her living on a street corner.

“Says the killer Marine who lacks all the relevant information.” Nate pushed Brad in the other direction.

“How the fuck do you know so much about it, anyway?” Brad finally asked, cursing his own perverse curiosity.

Nate hesitated long enough to heighten Brad’s interest and cause a tendril of concern over what Nate was hiding. “I read a lot.”

“Yeah, well,” Brad smoothed his features into a neutral mask. “Comic books don’t really count as reading. There’re more pictures than words.” Brad’s words were light, but seriously; who the fuck chooses the war in the Middle East for recreational reading? Nate had a better grasp of things than most of the officers Brad had ever served under.

“Ha ha,” Nate scoffed.

They both stood, fully dressed. They’d spent the last two hours talking and kissing and fucking – mostly fucking – but it was still early on a Saturday night. Nate was heading off to work his street corner and Brad was going to meet his teams at the pussy bar up the street.

Nate didn’t seem to be in any more of a hurry to leave than Brad was to have him go. Surprisingly, it wasn’t about the sex. Fuck yeah, Brad would love to slowly strip Nate naked, lay him out and recon some new terrain. But he also wanted to finish this conversation they’d started. He wondered how much Nate new about internal combustion engines and if he’d ever surfed.

He tried not to think about Nate on his knees for anyone other than Brad, or about him being fucked by anyone else’s cock. That was how Nate made his money. Brad killed men; Nate fucked them.

“If you don’t want to go back to work you can come out drinking with me.” Brad wondered where the fuck those words had come from even as they left his mouth. Not that Nate couldn’t more than cope with the guys in his team but how the hell would Brad explain showing up with a pretty piece of jailbait ass armed with spectacular green eyes and a mouth made for sucking cock?

“I’m a street hustler, Brad,” Nate said softly, reaching for the door. “Not an escort.” His tone was accepting but his eyes made him out to be a liar.

Brad swallowed hard and nodded, wishing for the first time things were different. “Next Saturday?” he asked, even as he knew he should stop this insanity.

“I hope so,” Nate said, his wide smile making Brad’s stomach do a slow roll. “That still good for you?”

“Still good for me,” Brad replied. Even if Brad had considered not showing up next Saturday, the look of hope in Nate’s wide eyes would have him braving a fucking Shamal to get there if necessary.

Brad suspected he was going to be visiting a certain street corner Thursday night just to see that particular look of pleased excitement he’d begun to notice in Nate’s eyes.

Nate started to head across the parking lot into the night but stopped suddenly. He turned back and walked straight up to Brad, getting right into his space. Nate pressed their lips together briefly before turning to run off into the dark.

Brad ran his thumb over his lower lip, wanting to keep the feel of Nate’s mouth on his own for as long as possible. He needed to unfuck himself right the fuck now. Brad had never been with the same whore more than twice. He’d certainly never prearranged a place and time to fuck one of them. Nate was damn near turning Brad into a wine-sipping, poetry-reading, flower-buying pussy-whipped boyfriend.

Brad Colbert did not date whores – he didn’t date at all - and he did _not_ do relationships.

So distracted by his own thoughts, Brad had almost reached his car when he realized someone was leaning against it. He stopped walking and raised himself to his full height, already assessing and anticipating from which direction the threat might appear.

Kit was leaning against the front driver’s side fender of the Mustang, watching Brad warily from beneath his long bangs.

Brad watched him closely and waited for him to speak.

“LT says you’re not dangerous to any of us,” he said after a long interval. Brad couldn’t help but feel as though he was being sized up.

“I’m not,” Brad confirmed. He didn’t have to prey on weaker people to prove he was a man. Brad refrained from further comment until he could ascertain just what this kid was after.

“He said you were worried about him. For all we knew he’d pissed you off and you wanted to hurt him.” Brad knew Kit was referring to the three days he’d desperately searched for Nate. Again, he couldn’t help but admire this kid’s unquestioning loyalty to and bravery on behalf of Nate.

“I know.” Brad wondered if this was some lame-assed attempt at an apology for having stonewalled him.

“He looks for you,” Kit said, standing up from Brad’s car.

“Excuse me?” Kit’s words had a strange warmth spreading in Brad’s chest at the same time an icy fist clenched around his gut.

“Even on nights he knows you’re not coming. Any black Mustang - any loud car for that matter – every tall blond guy has him staring.” Yeah, that’s what Brad had been afraid Kit meant. “He _knows_ it won’t be you but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.”

“You think I need to know this, why?” Brad’s mind was racing now, his heart hammering in his chest. Nate’s hopeful looks; his pleased expression whenever he caught sight of Brad, his sad eyes, and reluctance to leave when their time together was over – had he grown as attached as Brad seemed to have?

“Beatin’ the shit out of him ain’t the only way to hurt him.” There was a look of challenge in Kit’s eyes.

“Meaning?” Brad wondered if a whore could even become attached to a trick or if they were all just too fucked up.

“He’s a good guy. He ain’t gonna be out here forever, not like the rest of us.” Kit’s words left Brad chilled. He’d already figured out there was something different about Nate. Something _extraordinary_.  “He’s gonna be something someday. Don’t break him before he can get outta here.”

“What happens if him being out here breaks me?” Brad’s voice was raw, his throat tight.

“He’ll follow you out if you let it happen on his terms.” Kit seemed to be _willing_ Brad to understand something he was leaving unsaid.

“Okay.” He didn’t understand, though. Brad just couldn’t fucking wrap his head around what Kit was trying to tell him. Unfortunately, a thought had taken root; could he possibly get Nate off the streets?

“I gotta get back. Just … let him make the choice.”

Brad watched Kit walk off in the same direction Nate had gone, wondering when the fuck he’d fallen down the rabbit hole.

~*~

His head was still spinning when he walked into the fucking faggoty bar. Brad’s team was in the back, taking up several booths and tables and generally bringing down the property values.

Ray spotted Brad first, standing up and shouting above the din, “Icemaaaaaaaan!”

The rest of the team turned at Ray’s shout and sent up a chorus of ‘Iceman’, ‘Brad’, ‘Dude’ and ‘Dog’. Ray dragged a chair over to one of the tables and plunked it down next to the one he’d just vacated. It left Brad with no choice but to sit down next to Ray. As if Brad didn’t get enough of him at work.

“I was afraid you were going to bail on your old pal Ray-Ray again!”

Brad signaled the waitress and ordered himself a beer. “You ladies bitch and moan if I don’t come hold your dicks for you once in awhile so here I am to baby-sit while you sister-fucking inbreds drink yourselves sick.”

“We thought for sure you was ditchin’ us again for whatever fine piece of ass you been chasin’,” Corporal Jason Lilley shouted from across the booth.

It was the type of shit Poke, Ray and Eric flipped him all the time but Lilley mouthing off was pushing the limit of Brad’s tolerance. He looked over at the Corporal and waited to see if he was drunk enough to open his mouth again.

“Jason, man,” Corporal Evan Stafford said. “Sgt. Colbert can fuckin’ kill you with his brain. Keep your mouth shut, ‘cause we won’t miss you, bro. I’ll fuckin’ help him hide the body.”

That shut Lilley up. It also showed that Stafford was probably as smart as Brad had begun to suspect.

“There’s not a man here that wouldn’t blow off a night with their ‘boys’ for the promise of a hot pussy.” This from Sgt. Steven Lovell, who pinned them all with a look.

“I wanna meet the magic pussy that managed to hold the Iceman’s interest for more than a one night fuck,” Ray said. “’Cause that shit just doesn’t happen.”

“We been here two hours already, dog,” Poke said from directly across the table. “We gave up on you; thought sure you was tucked up in bed gettin’ your dick wet.”

Brad let the chatter float around and over him but remarked on none of it. He found himself wondering what Nate would make of the actual Recon Marines who had served as ‘the tip of the spear’, as he had so poetically put it.

Brad pulled himself out of his own thoughts. What the fuck? He had to stow that shit, but quick.

“Holy shit!” Ray shouted from beside Brad. “That’s why he was late. Look at him. Brad looks like he just ran five miles. You sneaky Hebrew motherfucker. You got pussy before you came to hang with your fellow warriors.”

“No, Ray,” Brad said between swigs of beer. “I can assure you, the reason I was late had nothing at all to do with pussy.”

Yeah, he was being an evasive asshole but truthfully; the reason he’d been late _hadn’t _had anything to do with pussy.

“Yeah okay, Brad,” said Sgt. Eric Kocher. “If that’s the way you want to play it, we got your back.”

Brad was saved from having to deflect further when something distracted the men and refocused their attention. Little ADD motherfuckers.

No, it wasn’t a pussy that had Brad’s focused attention. It was bright green eyes, a full soft mouth and a thick cock that curved in the most interesting way. He gave himself a mental kick in the ass when he realized he’d let Kit get away without doing any recon on who Nate spent his personal time with. It wasn’t looking like there was anyone, but Brad needed confirmation.

Nate’s reactions to Brad; the way he looked at him, his almost compulsive need to touch, seemed genuine. Nate looked at and touched Brad even when they weren’t fucking; even after Nate had been paid.

Kit’s words haunted Brad. Nate looked for him even on nights when he wasn’t expected. Had Kit been trying to tell him that, under the right circumstances, Nate might be persuaded to give up hustling?

Brad liked the idea of being the only dick Nate fucked and sucked. There just wasn’t a place for that in his life. Nate leaving the streets and only fucking Brad shouted ‘relationship’ at the same volume as a Fifty-cal. Relationships meant _emotions_ and Brad just didn’t feel anymore.

He ordered another beer and settled in to listen to his guys talk smack and bullshit. He had until Thursday to figure out what the fuck was going on with Nate. Brad had no doubt that he’d be seeing Nate on Thursday. He sure the fuck couldn’t wait until Saturday. He just had to have his head screwed back on straight by then.


	4. A Knight In A Shiny Black Mustang

Brad hadn’t jacked off in the shower that morning. He’d quit pretending to himself that he wasn’t going to find Nate that night, which meant he’d get laid so why waste it? Now, here he was; two blocks from Nate’s corner and sporting an erection he could use to drive nails.

Maybe he could get Nate to blow him on the drive to the motel.

Only … Nate wasn’t at his corner. Brad looked around quickly for Kit and didn’t see the little twink, either.

_Fuck!_

Suddenly, several young men Brad thought he recognized came running down the cross-street from the right. They scattered at the intersection, all heading off in different directions. The sight triggered something in Brad’s brain that increased his situational awareness.

He’d seen crowds of men scattering just like that in the streets of Baghdad after violence had been committed. They were either participants or witnesses and they didn’t want to be around when the shit hit the fan. In Iraq, that had meant facing Brad and his M4. Here, it meant facing the cops. Except, Nate’s and Kit’s absences from the street corner likely meant _someone _was going to have one pissed off Marine on their hands in about thirty seconds.

Brad gunned the engine of the Mustang and squealed the tires making a right turn in the direction the scattering men had all run from. At the opening to a narrow alley on his right, Brad observed a scuffle. He blocked the alley entrance with the Mustang and quickly climbed from the car.

It wasn’t immediately apparent what was happening but the closer Brad got, the easier it was to recognize some of the combatants. As Brad had feared, Nate was right in the fucking middle of it all. Fear and dread roiled through his gut like it had in combat.

The young, shy twink was lying motionless on the pavement. Kit was valiantly trying to pull away one of two men assaulting Nate. It looked like Nate had done damage to both of his assailants, but he wasn’t trained to fight and he was starting to lose. Still, even as Brad closed in, Nate landed a blow with the heel of his hand and another with a well-placed elbow.

Brad approached the skirmish from the rear then stepped to the right to flank the combatants. He planted his boot in the side of the knee of the bastard struggling with Kit. The snap and crunch were audible over the chaotic shouting and swearing and Brad watched them both collapse to the ground. Kit rolled free as the shitheel Brad had kicked screamed like a bitch.

The second asshole drew back his fist to punch Nate again and Brad wrapped his arm around the idiot’s neck. This guy might seem tough in a street fight but against Brad’s practiced sleeper-hold, he was out in under a minute.

“Fuck, Brad,” Nate said, struggling for breath as he stumbled back against the wall and slid down to the ground. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“Doesn’t matter. Are you okay, Nate?” Brad had casualties to deal with but first thing was first.

Nate looked dazed but he quickly nodded that he was okay.

Brad knelt down next to the prick with the busted knee. The guy was clutching at the ruined joint and shrieking loudly. Brad checked for weapons then gripped him by the throat. Up close he could see how much damage Nate had managed to inflict. The guy was nearly as bloody as Nate was.

“Lay there and shut the fuck up or I’ll beat you unconscious like you and your friend just did to this kid.” Brad waited for him to comply.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Dumbshit wheezed. “Did we hurt your favorite little fag whore?”

Brad flipped Dumbshit face down on the pavement and choked him unconscious. He left him lying in a puddle of questionable origin and cleanliness and moved to crouch in front of Nate. Kit was kneeling over the motionless boy on the ground.

He catalogued the injuries he could see. Nate’s nose was bloody, his lip was split, there was another cut in the corner of his mouth, an abrasion on his cheek, and what would probably turn into one hell of a shiner.

“Where else are you hurt?” Brad asked briskly, having to resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers over Nate’s injuries.

“I’m fine,” Nate gasped his reply. “Check on Mickey.”

Reluctantly, Brad shifted to assess the unconscious boy’s status. He had a pulse but he’d been beaten badly and was still bleeding. He needed an immediate cas-evac. Glancing around the alley, Brad formulated a plan.

“Kit,” he barked. “Check those dickwads for cell phones.”

The kid scrambled to comply and quickly came up with two expensive phones.

“Good,” Brad said with a nod. “Dial 911 and tell them where we are and that Mickey and Nate need an ambulance.”

“No,” Kit protested and Brad’s head snapped up. “Hospitals are expensive and they always bring the cops.”

“Mickey could die without a doctor,” Brad argued. “You’re indigent; you qualify for Medicaid. Now make the fucking call.”

Kit still hesitated and Brad was about to take the phones from him when he spoke again. “Get Nate out of here.”

“What?”

“The cops are gonna come. Nate doesn’t need anything like this hanging over his head. What would the Marines think about you being here? Just take him and get him help.” Kit dialed the phone and gave his location. He told whoever answered where he was and that he and his friend had been jumped and his friend needed an ambulance.

Brad stood up and reached for Nate.

“No,” Nate protested weakly as Brad helped him to his feet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shut the fuck up, Nate,” Brad snapped. “Just get in the car.”

“Nate,” Kit chimed in. “Go with your Marine. You can’t be here when the cops come.”

He ended up supporting most of Nate’s weight as they made it to the Mustang. Nate continued to protest weakly but he was no match for Brad’s strength and determination. Once they were in the car, Brad pulled sedately into traffic and headed for the motel. Nate slumped down in his seat, seeming to curl in on himself. Brad tried to keep a close eye on him as he drove. He knew he needed to get Nate cleaned up and watch for signs of shock.

Now that Nate was safe, Brad took a deep breath to steady himself. The thugs were lucky they hadn’t had weapons. It would have been worse for them if Nate had been beaten with a baseball bat, stabbed or shot. Brad would have rained hell down on them.

When they arrived at the motel, he practically carried Nate into the room. Brad settled him on the toilet seat and wet a cloth to start cleaning the blood from Nate’s wounds.

“Do you know if there’s an ice machine here?” Brad asked as he dabbed at Nate’s split lip as delicately as he was able.

“There’s not,” Nate replied, hissing in pain.

“You need ice for that eye and for your cheek,” Brad observed. “Probably a good idea for your lip, too.”

“I’m fine, Brad,” Nate protested, trying to pull away.

“No, you’re not,” he started on the blood under Nate’s nose. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Nate snorted a laugh then hissed when it stung his split lip. “I’ve got lube, rubbers, dildos and handcuffs. Will any of those work?”

Brad found none of that funny. “Given the self-deprecating nature of your failed attempt at humor, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that this attack was related to your work.”

“I’m not the one who was attacked.” Nate tried to stand but he let out a soft groan and sat back down.

“Lift your shirt,” Brad ordered.

“No …” Nate started to protest.

“I’m not asking, Nate,” Brad cut him off. “Now take it off.”

He watched as Nate started to lift his shirt over his head. Brad just caught a glimpse of forming bruises when Nate gasped and lowered his arms again.

“Fuck this,” Brad snarled. “Get your stuff. I’m taking you home.”

“No!” The vehemence of Nate’s protest stopped Brad in his tracks.

“You have a better idea?” he asked with a false calm.

“I just want to stay here.” Nate couldn’t or wouldn’t meet Brad’s eyes. He looked so young and vulnerable, Brad’s heart ached.

“I don’t have the supplies I need to treat you, Nate.” Brad was barely hanging onto his patience. “Why wouldn’t you want to be in your own home? Relax and sleep in your own bed?”

“Just … leave it alone, Brad,” Nate entreated.

He knelt down in front of Nate and ran his hands along his thighs, trying to soothe him.

“Listen to me, Nate,” Brad said in a low voice. “I know what you do to make money. Hell, I’ve paid you to do it. Given some of the things we’ve done to each other’s bodies, what could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”

“It’s not embarrassment,” Nate said quietly, watching Brad’s hands on his thighs. “Let’s just … let’s just go to a drug store for supplies and stay here.”

“If all I needed to do was clean and bandage a few scrapes, I might agree,” Brad coaxed. “But with those bruises I just saw, it’s a no go. Besides, you and I both know this room isn’t clean or comfortable.”

“Brad …”

“Nate.”

“Fine.”

~*~

Nate briefly worried about his early model piece-of-shit car. Brad told him to leave it parked at the motel; they’d deal with it later. He started to protest but Brad hustled him into the Mustang, ignoring his indignant mutterings.

Brad stopped at a pharmacy and stocked up on anything he thought he might need to treat Nate for a severe beating. He had no idea what Nate would have at home, so he got it all.

Sliding back into the car, Brad tossed a candy bar and bottle of soda into Nate’s lap.

“Fighting causes a rush of adrenaline,” he said by way of explanation. “When the threat passes and the adrenaline is reabsorbed, it causes a dip in your blood sugar. Those will make you feel better until I can get something more substantial into you.”

Nate ate and drank obediently while Brad tore the end off of a bag of Skittles with his teeth and poured several into his mouth.

Nate nervously and hesitantly gave Brad directions to his home. Brad grew more confused the longer they drove. The neighborhoods grew steadily more upscale until they were driving down the well-manicured thoroughfare that circled the local University.

“It’s up here on the left.” Nate’s voice was so quiet, Brad had to strain to hear.

He was speechless as he pulled the Mustang into the housing section of the University. On either side of the small two-lane road were several three-story dormitories. Brad _did not_ fucking like where this was headed. He kept waiting for Nate to laugh and say that he was fucking with Brad. He parked where Nate indicated and then helped him out of the car. Brad was thankful Nate’s dorm had an elevator because Nate wouldn’t have made it up a single flight of stairs.

Things were doubly fucked when they reached Nate’s actual dorm room. Brad’s Humvee in Iraq had been bigger. He took one look at the tiny bed and shook his head.

“Fuck it,” he said abruptly, decision made. “Pack a bag; we’re going to my place.”

“No …” Nate’s voice was loud in the cramped room.

“_Nathaniel_, shut the fuck up.” This was so far out of hand Brad almost didn’t know what to say. “You just took a beating and you’re showing signs of shock. Visible injuries are sprouting up every time I look at you. You could have injuries I _can’t_ see. I _know_ you won’t see a doctor, which means I have to keep an eye on you in the event your condition suddenly changes for the worse. Now, because you’re in shock and pain, I know you’re not thinking clearly, but the bottom line is we’re spending the night together so I can watch over you _for your own good._ Now pack a bag, Nate, ‘cause you’re coming home with me if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out kicking and screaming like a girl.”

Nate’s jaw dropped at Brad’s tirade but all the fight seemed to have gone out of him. “Yes, _Sergeant_,” He murmured petulantly, moving stiffly across the room.

Nate stashed what he’d brought back from the motel under his bed with his foot and began to collect clothes and toiletries. He tossed everything into a duffel with the University logo emblazoned on it. He glanced around briefly then also grabbed his laptop and backpack.

Brad felt so fucked when he realized Nate, the college student, was contemplating studying like a good little boy.

Nate secured the room and slowly led the way to the elevator. They passed a set of vending machines Brad hadn’t noticed earlier and suddenly Nate’s comment about not being able to afford chips came rushing back to him.

Once he had Nate tucked into the Mustang again, Brad fled the University campus as if he’d set it on fire.

Nate dozed off a few times during the drive, but he was never asleep for long and he always woke up alert and oriented. Brad felt some of his worry ease. Nate had to be fucking exhausted, anyway.

Brad’s house wasn’t large, but he didn’t need much space for just himself. The best part was the three-car garage and the huge yard. As Brad pulled the Mustang in, he parked next to the pick-up he used to tow his jet skis. The skis themselves were on the other side of the truck, along with his motorcycle.

He led Nate into the house and down the hall to his bedroom. Brad had fucked Nate – and vice-versa – in some pretty graphic ways so he wasn’t going to stand on ceremony now. Nate was sleeping in his bed tonight; no fucking guest room bullshit.

“First, you need to take a hot bath,” Brad said as he sat to unlace his boots. “Then, I’m going to clean and bandage you up. Then I’ll feed you and you can take some painkillers. After that, we’ll play it by ear but I imagine you’ll be just about ready to sleep.”

“Do I have a say?” Nate asked, his voice sounding tired.

“No.” Brad looked up and held Nate’s gaze, letting him see that arguing would be futile.

“Fine,” Nate sighed resignedly. “The bathroom through here?” He gestured toward the bathroom door.

“Hey, you just get undressed,” Brad said, standing up in his bare feet. “I’ll draw the bath.”

He didn’t turn on the bathroom lamps; just let the bedroom light spill through the open door. Brad made the water fairly hot, knowing Nate would need it to sooth bruised and battered muscles.

Nate spoke from the doorway behind him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bathtub a grown man could fit in.”

“Well, I’m more grown than most men,” Brad said, standing up from the edge of the tub. “So I had to install one I could actually use.”

He folded a towel and placed it at the back of the tub for Nate to lean against. “Climb in.”

Brad stood ready to assist if Nate required help. He watched Nate carefully lower himself into the water. His entire torso was decorated with deep purple bruises. By the look of it, he’d taken several gut punches and one or two hits to the kidneys. Brad would have to make sure Nate wasn’t pissing blood. Some of the smaller bruises on his sides were probably from assorted elbow jabs. Fuck but this kid was tough. Brad had seen Marines take themselves to the infirmary with fewer injuries. Nate eased back against the towel with a pained sigh and Brad felt himself relax marginally.

Dousing a washcloth in the hot water, Brad handed it to Nate. “If you lay back with this on your face for a few minutes it’ll help the blood wash off more easily.”

Nate made no protest as he did as Brad instructed.

“I’ll be right back,” Brad said quietly, trying to keep the atmosphere relaxed. “Call out if you need anything.”

In the kitchen, Brad dug his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and scrolled down to Doc Bryan’s number.

“Brad?” Doc answered, not bothering to hide his surprise and confusion. Brad was not one to make after-hours social phone calls.

“Tim, I need some medical advice,” Brad said succinctly. “And your discretion about this call.”

“What’s wrong?” Doc asked, concern and impatience both coloring his voice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Brad assured him. “A friend of mine got jumped and refuses to go to the hospital so I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Uh huh,” Doc said doubtfully. “You in any trouble?”

“None at all,” he replied. “You won’t see a bruise on me tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Doc seemed placated. “Whad’you need?”

“He took a beating, fists only from what I can tell,” Brad relayed the sit-rep. “The injuries I can see are a black eye, bloody nose that doesn’t appear broken, bruised and abraded cheekbone, split lip and a small cut in the corner. He took several body blows and is showing bruising on his abdomen, ribs, and kidney areas. He hasn’t pissed yet for me to check for blood.”

“Mental status?”

“No more combative than usual. Alert and oriented. No sign of blown pupils and they react to light.”

“Good,” Doc said. “I don’t think you’ll have any problems. Clean and dress the wounds. If he pisses blood or shows signs of vertigo get to a hospital no matter what he says. Watch for signs of internal bleeding like a distended belly or pale lips from blood loss. Other than that, you know how to handle it.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Brad said, ending the call.

He returned to Nate with a sports drink and some ice packs. As gently as he could, Brad used the supplies he’d bought to clean Nate up and dress his wounds. He focused on his task, not his patient. It wouldn’t do Nate any good for Brad to turn into a weepy, emo bitch over a few scrapes and bruises. It was just that Brad knew what _could_ have happened. He knew Nate could be lying, broken and forgotten, in the dark corner of a dirty alley.

When Brad was done, Nate looked considerably better. Brad wasn’t finished, though. He still needed to reassure himself that Nate was here with him, alive and only harmed in a way that would eventually heal.

He had Nate sit forward and hold one ice pack over his eyes and the bridge of his nose, and the second on his swelling lip.

“Just relax and tell me if anything hurts,” Brad said, ringing out the washcloth and reaching for the bottle of shower gel. He worked up a lather and laid the cloth open against Nate’s back. He began to use both hands to run the cloth over Nate’s naked back and shoulders, both washing and comforting him.

Brad was careful not to press too hard at the battered flesh as he smoothed the soft suds and the gently abrasive cloth first up, then down Nate’s back. Slowly, Brad rubbed circles into each of his shoulders, giving tentative squeezes to the thick muscles. When there was no sign of pain, only appreciative sighs from Nate, he massaged gently, easing away the tension.

“Can I trust you to tell me if you piss blood?” Brad asked quietly. “Or do I have to stand over you and watch each time?”

Nate gave a soft grunt that Brad thought was supposed to be a laugh. “Yeah, you can trust me.”

Brad’s hands in the cloth dropped below the water line, running over Nate’s waist and along his hips. He moved the cloth in slow, gentle circles. He worked his hands over the larger groups of muscles and moved tenderly over areas of bone covered in purpling skin. Beneath Brad’s hands, he could feel Nate relax further.

“Now would be a good time to tell me what that was all about.” Brad kept his voice low and non-threatening. He was afraid he already knew the answer and Brad’s gut twisted as he waited for Nate to tell him he’d nearly been forced to fuck two men in that dark, dirty alley.

It seemed Nate considered playing dumb before his shoulders slumped and he began to speak. Brad moved his hands back up to run warm water over those shoulders, slowly rinsing away the lather. He found himself as calmed and relaxed by these motions, as Nate seemed to be.

“One of the local pimps sent his goons around again to intimidate us into joining his ‘stable’.” Brad heard the implied air quotes. “They learned a long time ago that I’m not an easy target so they went after Mickey this time.”

“Naturally,” Brad frowned. “Target the weak.” He relaxed as Nate’s answer surprised and relieved him.

“When I heard Mickey’s screams I went running. Kit followed me.” Brad could see Nate doing this; unable to stand by while one of his friends was being hurt. He’d charge in without a thought for his own safety if it meant preventing harm to just _one_ person he cared about.

Brad wondered what it would take for Nate to care for him that much. It was a fucking ridiculous thought. That’s not how his life worked. People didn’t feel that way about him.

“And you pulled them off of Mickey.” Brad squeezed the cloth over Nate’s other shoulder and watched the water course down over his mottled skin and sluice away the lather. Nate’s skin was shiny-wet and Brad had to resist the urge to run his tongue along Nate’s nearest shoulder blade.

“Yeah, but they already had him down. I’ve learned to kick, punch, gouge and elbow with great effect in the last couple of years but two-on-one will always wear me down eventually.” Brad silently agreed, having seen the result of Nate’s battle with his assailants.

“When I got there, Kit was trying like hell to inflict some damage.” Brad added more gel and ran the soapy cloth up over the nape of Nate’s neck, squeezing gently at the knotted muscles. Nate dropped his head forward. Brad opened the cloth over his hand and placed it on Nate’s shoulder, then rubbed down along his upper arm.

“Kit tried but he fights like a girl.” There was humor in Nate’s voice.

“There are some female Marines that would kick your ass for saying that.” Brad swapped the cloth to his other hand and palmed his way from Nate’s shoulder and along his upper arm.

“Can I heal first?”

“Yeah, I think that can be arranged.” Brad shifted Nate’s hands so that he held the ice packs with only one.

He added gel to the cloth and caressed it around Nate’s arm, the soft portion of his inner elbow, and down further still until Brad held his hand with both of his own. He gently massaged Nate’s palm with his thumbs and ran the cloth between each finger.

“Where’s your family, Nate?” Brad asked gently, hoping to keep Nate talking and trying not to spook him into silence. As he talked, he rinsed the cloth and squeezed warm water over Nate’s arm and shoulder. He rinsed away all the foam he’d built up on the arm he held.

“My father is back east,” Nate said simply, sighing as Brad rinsed his arm. “My mom died a few years ago.”

Brad’s heart ached for the young motherless boy he saw in his mind.

“Does your father know where you are?” Brad traded Nate’s hands on the ice packs, then rubbed the freshly soaped cloth over his other arm.

“When he’s sober he might remember what University I’m attending but I even doubt that.” Nate’s voice sounded small and resigned and Brad felt his own heart break. In silence, he rinsed off Nate’s arm.

“Lay back again, just relax.” Brad helped Nate into position, knowing his muscles were probably beginning to hurt like a motherfucker.

Nate tossed the ice packs aside saying, “My face is numb.” Brad didn’t protest because it looked like the swelling had been arrested.

Brad shifted further along the edge of the tub. He draped a towel across his lap and reached for one of Nate’s feet. Brad massaged his foot for several moments before working up his ankle and then his calf, trying to ease out the knots he found there. Nate’s sigh bordered on a groan.

“The work you do,” Brad asked, surprised at his own hesitance. “Is that to pay for school?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you, Brad?” Nate seemed so young and so tired.

“Nope,” Brad confirmed, running the cloth along his calf and stopping to focus on the tender back of his knee. “I’d like to understand why you’d put yourself in this position if you have family to help.”

“I told you why I fuck for money,” Nate said in a flat tone.

Brad’s head shot up and he could tell Nate was getting defensive. “You explained that already and I get it.” Brad did get it. He really fucking got it. “I was referring to the beating you took tonight.”

He tried to alleviate Nate’s newly returned tension by running the warm, sudsy cloth up the inside of his thigh. Brad rubbed soothing circles along the pale, unblemished skin he’d placed so many kisses on already.

“I’m on a scholarship,” Nate finally said, eyes closing, as he seemed to relax down into Brad’s touch. “I could have gone to a school closer to home and gotten a full scholarship but I wanted to attend the best University that would accept me.”

“So you’re out here on a partial?” Brad rinsed Nate’s leg with warm water from the cloth before trading legs and starting all over again.

“Tuition and books are covered,” Nate’s entire sentence was delivered on a moan. “Housing and meals are not.”

“Does your father know?” Brad rinsed Nate’s leg and set it back in the tub.

“I haven’t talked to my father since I came out here to start school.” Nate’s tone told Brad he had shared all he was going to tonight.

He slid closer to Nate and added gel to the cloth one more time. Brad used one open hand to run the cloth over Nate’s chest, watching the white soap form streaks of bubbles over Nate’s smooth skin. His pink nipples were budded in the cool air and Brad had to resist the urge to nibble.

Working the lather down over Nate’s taut stomach, carefully avoiding the angry bruising, Brad’s hand stilled. Nate’s cock was fully hard beneath the water line, curved up against his belly.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing, Nate,” Brad said, biting back a chuckle.

“Then stop rubbing your hands all over me, Brad.” Nate didn’t bother to hide his smirk but he kept his eyes closed.

Brad slid up close to the back of the tub where Nate was reclined. He saturated the cloth with water and squeezed it out over Nate’s hair.

“Mmmmm,” Nate sighed. “That feels good.”

When Nate’s hair was completely wet, Brad poured out a measure of shampoo and began to lather the soft strands. He massaged Nate’s scalp with firm fingers, dragging his short nails gently along the skin. Brad smoothed his fingers through the strands, spreading the lather around. He couldn’t help but glance down and saw Nate’s cock twitch against his belly.

Brad placed a hand behind Nate’s neck and said, “Tilt back a little.”

When Nate complied, Brad used the cloth to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

Easing Nate back down, he asked, “Feel better?”

“Yesssss,” Nate sighed with pleasure. “Except I have to piss.”

Brad chuckled and reached to drain the tub. He stood and grabbed a fresh, oversized towel. He steadied Nate as he stepped from the tub, and then wrapped the towel around his entire body. Brad ran his hands over Nate’s arms and back with the intent of drying him, but he felt so warm and smelled so good from the bath that Brad couldn’t resist wrapping him up in his arms.

Brad was suddenly possessed by an overwhelming urge to keep Nate close to him always; to keep him warm and safe; to always _know_ that Nate was warm and safe. He felt the need to _protect_ Nate from the world and the ugly people in it.

Nate rested his head against Brad’s shoulder, relaxing into his body and hands. Brad skimmed his hands down Nate’s back and the very beginning of the curve of his ass. He felt Nate tremble. Brad turned his head and buried his nose in the clean, wet hair behind Nate’s ear. He pressed a soft kiss to the warm skin.

“I really, _really_ like this, Brad,” Nate said in a low, rough voice. “But it’s not helping my hard-on go down and I really have to pee.”

Pulling back with a soft chuckle, Brad ran the towel over Nate’s legs and tried his best to ignore the erection Nate still proudly sported. He toweled the excess moisture from Nate’s hair, then wrapped the towel around his hips and pointed him in the direction of the toilet.

Brad busied himself cleaning up the bathroom while he listened for Nate to urinate. A soft grunt accompanied the sound of his stream and Brad took a few steps closer.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, worried about Nate’s injuries.

Nate’s laugh was almost embarrassed, “It’s sore, but I think it’s more from the partial erection than anything else.”

“Is it clear?” Brad held his breath until Nate answered.

“Yes, _Sergeant_,” Nate replied with a sardonic smile, clearly growing uncomfortable with Brad’s hovering.

“Let’s get you into some clean clothes,” Brad said, slipping an arm around Nate’s shoulders lightly. “Then I’ll feed you.”

“You don’t need to go to so much trouble,” Nate complained, sinking stiffly down onto the edge of the bed. His injuries were obviously starting to make themselves known.

“_Nathaniel_,” Brad said in a severe tone, handing Nate his overnight bag from where it sat on the floor.

“Fine,” Nate huffed petulantly as he withdrew briefs, a shirt and plaid sleep pants.

Brad took the briefs from Nate and knelt to slide them over his feet.

Nate protested vehemently, “Brad, you really don’t need to do _that_.”

Brad paused to look up at Nate with only thinly veiled impatience. “You try bending over with those bruises and you’ll change your mind.”

Nate’s lips pressed into a thin line as frustration vibrated along the lines of his body. Brad tilted his head to one side and spoke gently.

“Nate, no one likes being helpless,” he said with great feeling. “No one likes to have to rely on other people. It’s difficult to sacrifice your independence, especially when you’re proud of that independence.”

Brad watched Nate’s face soften slightly.

“Given how you were injured,” Brad continued now that he knew Nate was listening. “And the nature of your injuries, there is no shame in needing help for a short time.”

Nate considered Brad’s words for a long moment, and then released a resigned sigh. Brad new surrender when he heard it. He turned back to the task of sliding Nate’s briefs over his feet and up his calves, before gently working them along his thighs. He _did_ let Nate do the rest, though.

Brad repeated the process with the sleep pants. Nate insisted he could get the tank top on by himself but when he tried to lift his arms over his head, he stiffened and hissed loudly in pain.

Taking the tank top from Nate’s clenched fingers, Brad gathered it up in his hands. “Arms in front of you,” he ordered softly.

When Nate complied, Brad slid the shirt over his hands and up his arms in much the same way he’d helped with his pants. Nate dipped his head at Brad’s softly spoken instruction and the tank top slid on with no further pain inflicted. Brad tugged the hem down to meet Nate’s pants and stood back to admire.

“See?” Brad asked, sarcastically. “That didn’t kill you.”

Nate looked pensive for a moment then said, “I should try to call Kit and see how Mickey is.”

Of course Nate wanted to check on his men. Brad handed over his cell phone without a word. “Come out to the kitchen when you’re done.”

Much later, Nate padded into the kitchen in his oversized sleep pants, bare feet and damp, tousled hair. _Fuck_ if he didn’t look twelve-years old. Brad’s cock twitched because he _knew_ Nate wasn’t twelve-years old.

He wondered for a moment if Nate would be willing to experiment with a little Daddy-kink role-play.

Brad gestured for Nate to sit at one of the stools at the counter and he continued to throw a meal together. It was just leftovers and opened cans but it would be nutritious.

“How are your friends?” Brad asked.

“Kit says Mickey will be okay, but he took a good beating,” Nate replied, fiddling with the napkin in front of him. “It’ll be awhile before he can work again.”

“It’s going to be several days before _you’re_ going to be able to work again, too,” Brad said pointedly. There was a pleasant flutter in chest as he realized he might have Nate to himself for the entire weekend.

“Kit also said the cops know someone else was involved but he’s still denying it,” Nate sipped at the sports drink Brad sat in front of him. “Since all four people they know of have obviously been beaten, Kit won’t identify you and the other two can’t, they’ve declared ‘NHI’ and are already moving on.”

“NHI?” Brad asked, as fond of a good acronym as the next grunt.

“_No humans involved_,” Nate said with some heat. “It’s just whores and pimps beating the shit out each other so why worry?”

Brad was all the more glad he’d gotten there in time to pull Nate out.

“Fuck!” Nate swore suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Brad spun around quickly looking for signs of pain.

“I have class tomorrow morning,” Nate looked like he was going to stand up from the stool. “I can’t stay here tonight.”

Brad crossed the kitchen to stand across the counter from Nate. “Trust me, come morning; you may not be able to get out of bed. Besides, what professor wouldn’t excuse one absence when you show up on Monday with a black and blue face?”

Nate sat back down but there was still tension in his shoulders. “I’m so close. I can’t afford to fuck it up now.”

Brad leaned on his elbows. “How much longer do you have?”

“This is my last semester,” Nate answered. “I graduate in May.”

And get a job and get off the streets, Brad thought silently, a small thrill running up his spine.

“What are you studying?” Brad pushed for just one more answer before Nate shut down again.

“Geo-polysci and Business.” Nate didn’t even seem to realize he’d answered that one.

“Will you really miss anything tomorrow that will make the difference between failing and graduating?” Brad asked quietly. He watched Nate’s expressive face move through a series of emotions as he considered this.

“Honestly?” Nate finally said. “No.”

Brad considered the matter closed so he returned to his meal prep. He filled two plates with red meat; protein for Nate’s battered muscles, green vegetables; iron for blood loss, and fresh fruit; because Brad had needed something to do with his hands instead of run them all over Nate’s battered body.

They were several bites in when Nate asked, “So, where’s _your_ family, Brad?”

Nate’s eyes held both curiosity and challenge, as if daring Brad to try to withhold parts of himself after prying open Nate’s scabbed wounds. Brad would go so far as to say Nate _expected_ Brad to be evasive.

“My family’s local,” Brad said with complete aplomb. “I grew up right around here.”

“Are you close with them?” Nate asked wistfully, as if he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, pretty close. I have two sisters, married with kids, who keep my parents occupied so they have less time to worry about their wayward adopted son putting himself in harm’s way just for the challenge.”

“Wait, you’re adopted?” Nate asked incredulously.

“By a bourgeois, educated, professional, upper-middle class Hebrew family whose contribution to social betterment was to adopt a discarded Nordic spawn.” Brad watched Nate’s eyebrows rise higher with each word he spoke.

“Wow,” Nate enthused. “I know a couple of English majors who’d get hard-ons trying to diagram that sentence.”

Brad leered at Nate. “I only care if it gives _you_ a hard-on.”

“It’s not your sentences that give me a hard-on.” Brad was amazed that Nate was able to pull off demure flirtation. He really liked that look on Nate.

“Eat your food, you tease,” Brad said with a smile.

As Nate continued to dig into his food, Brad grabbed a pen and pad. He printed out some notes and instructions before turning the pad so Nate could read it.

“This is my cell number if you need me while I’m at work tomorrow…” he didn’t get any further before Nate interrupted indignantly.

“Wait, you’re going to work and leaving me here alone?” Brad was surprised by Nate’s anger and he wondered what it was meant to mask.

“It’s too late to get leave and if I call in sick, I’ll still have to check into the infirmary so my best bet is to report in and suck my CO’s cock to let me off base early.” Brad explained.

“Is that a joke?” Nate asked, then clenched his jaw.

Was that _jealousy_? Oh, how cute.

“Yes, Nate. It was a joke.”

“Good.” And that would be possessiveness. This just kept getting better.

“It’s not unusual for me to not be able to answer my cell right away,” Brad continued. “So if you call and don’t get me, leave a message.”

“I’m not comfortable staying here alone,” Nate said as he shook his head, the stubborn set of his jaw returning.

“Trust me,” Brad assured him. “You’ll sleep most of the day. There’s plenty of food, help yourself. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He could tell Nate was still resistant but he didn’t argue.

“If you have an emergency,” Brad continued. “Severe headache, vertigo, vomiting or pissing blood, and I don’t answer my cell, call this number …,” he pointed to the second number he’d written, “and give whichever Private First Class Head-up-his-ass that answers, this message.” Brad pointed to the words beneath the phone numbers. “That’ll have some office grunt hoofing it double time to my location and I’ll call you.”

“Fine,” Nate said grudgingly and turned back to polish off the last of his food.

Brad couldn’t help but smile at Nate’s stubborn obstinacy.

He gave Nate an over-the-counter painkiller and then shuffled him back into the bedroom and through to the bathroom. Brad found a spare toothbrush and left Nate to it as he went in search of _something_ to wear to bed.

Locating a pair of boxers that had been a gift from someone who thought he wore that kind of shit, Brad slid them on along with a t-shirt so old, it was transparent in places. He turned to check on Nate and saw him leaning on the vanity, struggling to brush his teeth without bending over the sink. Brad knew Nate would hardly be able to move tomorrow.

He ran his toothbrush briefly over his own teeth, then ushered a flagging Nate into the bed.

“Hop in,” Brad said, pulling back the covers on the nearest side. “Get comfortable.”

Even with Brad’s help, Nate settled in with difficulty. His bruised stomach made lying down painful. The bruises on his back made him want to turn to his side but when his face touched the pillow, the bruises there protested. Brad waited patiently until Nate stopped squirming.

“Take a hot bath when you wake up tomorrow,” Brad said, running a hand through Nate’s hair. “It will loosen the muscles.”

He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to Nate’s forehead and when he tried to pull back, Nate’s hands on his shoulders tried to hold him close. Brad glanced down to see Nate tilt his face upward, as if reaching for Brad’s lips with his own.

“Shhh, Nate,” Brad said softly, running is hands over Nate’s arms – the only part Brad could think of that wasn’t bruised. “Just relax, you need to sleep.”

Brad’s cock was more than interested but his brain shut that thought right the fuck down. Nate was black and blue and in pain and the last thing he needed was Brad trying to fuck him. Even as Brad thought this, his dick reminded him that he had Nate in his bed for the first time, warm and clean and apparently willing.

No sleazy motel and no having to watch Nate run off into the dark in search of someone else to pay him for a fuck.

“Don’t you want me?” Nate asked, seeming so small and young and – frightened.

Brad took pity on him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips that Nate immediately tried to deepen.

“Fuck yes, I want you,” Brad said when he pulled back. “But in your condition, it’s wrong.”

“But after all you’ve done tonight …” Nate started to say, but Brad didn’t want to hear how that sentence ended.

“Nate, just go to sleep,” Brad said with some edge. The last thing he needed from Nate was a gratitude-fuck; as if Brad required his dick sucked for taking care of him.

Brad got up and walked to the other side of the bed, sliding beneath the covers. He lay still for a moment, listening to Nate’s breathing become slower and steady. Now that they were here, together, laying in Brad’s bed in the dark, he ached to take Nate into his arms and reassure him. Brad feared that Nate was bound to think he was obligated for more. Still, Brad knew from battlefield injuries he seen and tended to, that human contact could ease anxiety. Nate had taken a beating and was now sleeping in a strange bed, in a strange house. He could probably use _some_ sort of touch from Brad.

He slid across the bed slowly, not wanting to jostle Nate if he’d already drifted to sleep. Brad moved until he could just feel the warmth of Nate’s body, figuring Nate could feel his now, as well. Nate had finally found a comfortably position on his side, his face turned up and away from the pillow. Brad carefully turned onto his side, facing Nate’s back. He contemplated whether or not this was enough.

Thinking back to how he and his Platoon would gather around a wounded Marine and each lay a hand on him to calm and comfort, Brad reached out apprehensively. He carefully, gently, let his hand come to rest on Nate’s hip. He did nothing else. This way, Nate could feel Brad, know he was here next to him and here for him. He didn’t move any closer to Nate’s body, trying to make it clear this was intended as comfort, not seduction.

Brad closed his eyes and let himself begin to drift to sleep. Just before he slid into oblivion, he felt Nate’s hand come to rest over the top of his own. The move was accompanied by a deep sigh.

Brad smiled to himself as he slipped into sleep.

~*~

At first, Brad’s dream was unremarkable. Then it shifted and he could feel the heat of Nate’s body against his side. He could smell Nate’s freshly bathed scent. He could hear and feel Nate’s hot breath on his neck.

The scene shifted again and Brad slowly rose out of sleep to become aware of his surroundings. Nate really was pressed up against Brad’s side. He really could smell Nate’s clean scent. Nate really was breathing hot and heavy against Brad’s neck, probably because he was grinding an impressive hard-on against the side of Brad’s hip.

“Nate,” Brad whispered. “You need to sleep.”

“Fuck you, Brad,” Nate’s whisper was filled with anger. “You run your hands all over me, wash my fucking hair, crawl into a huge, warm, _clean_ bed with me and don’t do a goddamn thing about the hard-on _you_ gave me.” Nate emphasized his words by pressing the aforementioned hard-on against Brad’s hip. “Christ, your scent is _everywhere_ and I’m supposed to just lay here smelling you and not touch my dick?”

If Nate panting against his neck and grinding his cock against him hadn’t already started Brad’s own cock growing, Nate’s words certainly would have had him standing at attention.

“You’re going to be sore enough tomorrow, Nate,” Brad tried to hold his voice steady even as his erection grew. “You are not up for vigorous sex.”

“Then just lay there and let me rub myself off against you.” Nate breathed and began humping Brad’s hip as if he was fucking Brad’s ass.

Brad knew _that_ wasn’t going to fucking happen but he lay frozen for a few moments trying to think of how to take care of them both without adding to Nate’s discomfort.

“God, my dick gets hard the second I catch your scent,” Nate moaned. “As soon as I get into the car with you, I just get the leading edge of it and I’m like Pavlov’s fucking dog.”

Brad understood that response. He had the same reaction to Nate’s smile.

“Then we start kissing and you get turned on and it gets stronger,” Nate cupped Brad’s own erection as he said this. “When you sweat, the two scents mingle and sometimes I think I can come just from that.”

Brad had the same reaction to watching Nate’s mouth as he made all those spectacular sounds while Brad fucked him.

“Then when we come and I can smell us _both_ …” Nate trailed off on a groan and Brad knew he had to do something.

Reaching into the bedside table, Brad grabbed the travel pack of wipes and the lube bottle he kept there. He rolled onto his side facing Nate, and reached between their bodies.

“Just relax,” Brad whispered against Nate’s lips. “You don’t have to move, let me do the work.”

He took them both out of their flies and pressed their cocks together loosely in his fist. Nate groaned into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he breathed.

Brad slicked his palm with a little of the lube and coated them both lightly. Nate’s hips flexed with each brush of Brad’s hand. He pressed their dicks together and began to stroke and slide. With small movements of his hips, Brad’s cock glided against Nate’s. At the same time, he stroked his hand in the opposite direction, giving Nate the pressure and the friction he sought.

Nate’s hands clutched at Brad, holding on desperately as his dick was rubbed and stroked. He pressed his open mouth to Brad’s lips and just breathed. Brad swallowed down every softly hitched breath and each low, guttural moan. His hips twitched involuntarily against Brad’s fist.

Brad’s own thrusts sped up as he felt Nate begin to shudder against him. The tremors started small but very quickly were wracking Nate’s entire body. Brad fucked into his own fist, feeling himself slide against Nate’s erection, their crowns hooking and catching with each gliding stroke.

Nate came with a stuttering growl, releasing pained sounds against Brad’s mouth. The last high-pitched mewl before his body stilled was all Brad needed. He came on a groan, flooding his own hand with come that mixed and mingled with Nate’s.

Brad used several wipes to clean them both up. He discarded everything to the bedside table to clean up in the morning. He tucked them both away and had to admit, he felt better – more relaxed. Maybe Nate had benefited from getting off, too. Brad still felt as though he’d taken advantage of Nate. He was in a weakened, vulnerable state. He’d thrown himself at Brad and Brad hadn’t resisted. Not for very long, anyway.

Nate sighed heavily from beside him. Brad felt his fingers enveloped in Nate’s warms ones. Nate brought their joined hands up to rest on the pillow beside his head. He pressed his lips to the back of Brad’s hand and whispered, “Thank you.”

Brad squeezed Nate’s fingers with his own and waited for him to drop off to sleep again.


	5. He's Only Fooling Himself

Brad was dressed in his fatigues and had just tucked his utility cover into a pocket when Nate stirred. His eyes showed confusion at first but as soon as he spotted Brad, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

That smile made Brad happier than it probably should. He fought off the urge to strip down and crawl back into bed with Nate.

“I need to piss,” Nate mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. His attempt to rise immediately became a struggle and Brad was quickly at his side.

Nate shuffled sleepily into the bathroom and Brad followed close behind. He suspected it was a testament to how groggy Nate still was that he didn’t object to Brad standing behind him while he peed.

Instead of heading back to bed when he was done, Nate leaned back into Brad’s body.

“You are so fucking hot in uniform,” Nate sighed.

Brad laughed quietly, both pleased and surprised by Nate’s confession. “Harboring a uniform kink?”

“Apparently one I didn’t know about until now.” There was a smile in Nate’s voice as he made his way back to bed.

“When you’re feeling better maybe we’ll try a little role play.” Brad ran his hands lightly over Nate’s back. He wondered which uniform Nate would prefer; Utilities or Class A.

With some difficulty, Brad got Nate settled back in bed. He thread his fingers through Nate’s hair.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Nate was already sliding back into sleep.

In the kitchen, Brad gathered supplies for which he thought Nate might need to leave the bed. He placed on the bedside table a full bottle of water, an empty bottle, a foil packet of Pop Tarts, the pad of paper with his note and finally, the telephone. As an afterthought, he pushed Nate’s book and overnight bags closer to his side of the bed.

Brad paused briefly to look over his shoulder at Nate one last time before he headed out to work.

~*~

“Lieutenant,” Brad said from the door to Wynn’s office. “A word?”

Mike gestured Brad into his office. “What can I help you with, Brad?”

“If it’s at all possible, I’d like to be dismissed early, sir,” Brad said, stepping up to Wynn’s desk. “I have an injured friend staying at my house and I’d like to get back to him ASAP.”

“An injured friend, huh?” Wynn said speculatively. “I wasn’t aware you liked anyone well enough to call them a friend.”

Brad lifted an eyebrow, wondering if Mike wasn’t trying to make a different point all together.

“It’s rare, Lieutenant,” Brad said dryly. “But occasionally I do find intelligent, articulate, capable people with whom to associate. Many of them even have family trees with straight branches.”

Wynn smiled. “At least your sense of humor hasn’t changed.”

“Sir?” Mike was usually straightforward and Brad didn’t want him to stop now.

“You haven’t called me anything but ‘Lieutenant’ in at least a month,” Mike explained thoughtfully. “I thought maybe I did something to get onto the ‘Brad Colbert shit list’ when you stopped calling me ‘LT’.”

Brad hadn’t been aware of that, let alone that anyone had noticed, but it made sense. Ever since meeting Nate, Brad couldn’t think of anyone else as ‘LT’.

“All due respect, sir,” Brad said, easing his words with a smile. “Get over yourself.”

Mike laughed heartily. “All right, Brad, point taken. Yes, I’ll kick you loose at the earliest possible time.”

“Thank you, sir.” Brad left Wynn’s office feeling unsettled.

Things only got worse when Doc Bryan caught up with him.

“Hey, Brad,” Doc said, coming to stand next to Brad in the hanger where the teams were working. “How’s your friend?”

The peculiar emphasis on that last word had Brad glancing sharply at Doc.

“He seemed fine when I left him this morning,” Brad replied cautiously. “He’s going to be sore as fuck for the next few days but there doesn’t seem to be any major damage.”

“You said he got jumped?” Doc asked.

“Actually, he intervened for a friend of his who’d been jumped.” Brad intended to leave it there.

“How did you get involved?”

Brad stopped working, drew himself up to his full height, and turned to face Doc fully. “His family is back east and he had no one else to call,” Brad’s voice was low with burgeoning anger. “And this is your business, how?”

“You’re not exactly the caretaking type, Brad.” Doc didn’t flinch under Brad’s angry glare. “And out of the blue you call for medical advice about a beating and ask me to be discrete.”

Brad huffed a laugh. This was just so retarded he didn’t know where to start. “It wasn’t Corp related, Tim,” Brad bit out. “Am I really the only one in this Company that prefers to keep my private life private?”

“Time was,” Doc snapped back. “I wouldn’t have thought twice about it but with the way Person’s been goin’ on and on about you mooning for weeks over the same piece of trim …”

So that’s what this was about. Fuck Person and fuck his fucking oversized, sister-fucking, big mouth.

“First,” Brad said, stepping in close to Doc. “Ray is running off at the mouth over an erroneous assumption and you dumbfucks are listening to his fucked up retard-ese. Ray thinks I’ve gone domestic with the same piece of pussy instead of finding a new Service offering flavors I’ve never tried before.”

That got a small laugh out of Doc at least.

“Second,” Brad continued. “I don’t lay hands on women.”

“There was a time I knew that,” Doc said in the quiet, neutral voice he used when he was the most serious. “But we all came back from Iraq changed.”

Brad shook his head emphatically. “Not that way. That kind of evil would have already had to be a part of me in some fundamental way. It wasn’t, and it’s not.”

“All right, Brad,” Doc said with a nod of acceptance. “And this conversation _is_ just between us.”

When Brad found Ray Person, he was in mid-rant about being whipped and a pussy made of sunshine. Pfc. Christeson tried to give Ray the heads up with a hastily murmured, “Danger close; Iceman,” but Ray was way too into his topic.

“Cpl. Person,” Brad barked in his Sergeant voice.

He enjoyed watching Ray jump in surprise and snap to attention. Brad stepped to the side and gestured for Ray to precede him.

When they had stepped away from the group, Brad grabbed Ray by the shoulder of his uniform jacket. “Corporal,” Brad said, in a voice low and dangerous. “You will immediately cease undermining my command authority with inaccurate speculation as to the nature of events in my personal life. Is that clear?”

Brad never spoke to his men in this manner. Ray was damn near a friend. He was certainly just like a brother. But he was speaking with authority about things Brad wasn’t even sure about yet and it needed to stop right the fuck now.

Ray swallowed. “Yes, Sergeant Colbert.”

Brad released Ray’s jacket. “If I have to speak to you again, you won’t like it.”

“All due respect, sir,” Ray said, much subdued. “I didn’t mean to undermine you. I just thought it was great you might be letting someone in, again.”

Leave it to Ray to fuck up Brad’s life because he was _happy_ for him.

“Leave it alone, Ray,” Brad said in warning. “You’re way off base, in any case.”

“Solid copy,” Ray said quickly.

“Dismissed, Corporal.” Brad watched Ray scamper back to the group.

True to his word, Lt. Wynn kicked everyone loose at noon. Brad was still seething over the speculation on his personal life and didn’t bother speaking to anyone before he climbed on his bike and rode home.

Brad stepped into his house and listened to the silence. It was a different silence than he was used to when he came home. It wasn’t the usual empty silence, but one of waiting; waiting for Brad to come home, waiting for Nate to awaken.

He checked the kitchen and saw a dish in the drainer that hadn’t been there when he’d cleaned up this morning. Nate must have made it out of bed to eat. That was good. Brad took off his boots and headed for the bedroom.

When he caught sight of Nate sleeping peacefully, Brad froze in the doorway. Nate still wore his sleep pants, but he’d put on white socks. He’d also raided Brad’s closet and appropriated his black Recon hoodie. Brad smiled to himself.

He moved as quietly as he could, starting to change out of his uniform. From time to time Brad would glance over and just watch Nate sleep. There was an array of objects around him; a stack of textbooks, his laptop, a notebook, and the television remote. Brad was pleased that Nate seemed to have made himself at home.

He’d just stripped out of his t-shirt and stood in his bare feet and trousers when he heard Nate stir. Brad turned in time to see Nate catch sight of him and smile.

“You’re home,” he said, in a sleepy voice. Brad liked the sound of it and smiled at him in return.

Crossing to the bed, he stretched out next to Nate. “How you feelin’?”

“Really sore,” Nate grimaced. “Just like you said.”

“Lift your shirt,” Brad ordered, gesturing with his fingers. “Let me see how your bruises are looking.”

Nate complied, but he moved hesitantly. He tugged his clothes up around his chest and Brad examined the injuries. A pattern of black and blue contusions decorated Nate’s body and looked painful. They weren’t swollen though, and there were no signs of anything more serious.

“You can put your shirt down, now,” Brad said, clenching his fists to keep from reaching out and running his hands over Nate’s firmly muscled torso. “They don’t look any worse than I expected.”

“Good,” Nate said quietly, then asked, “Are you home early?”

“Pretty early,” Brad confirmed. “Were you asleep long?”

“I dunno. What time is it?”

“Twelve-thirty.”

“Wow. Almost an hour.” Nate’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” It was true, but Brad couldn’t help but be pleased Nate was awake.

“I don’t think you did, but I wanted to wake up when you got home.”

“Did you get any studying done?” Brad asked, afraid to read too much meaning into Nate’s words.

“I read several chapters while I was in the bath.”

“Good.”

“Mostly I just slept. I got cold so I borrowed your sweatshirt.” Nate seemed embarrassed to have been caught in Brad’s clothes. “And, I made a sandwich, I hope that’s okay.”

“I told you to help yourself,” Brad reassured him.

“It’s so quiet here. It was easy to read. My dorm always has something going on. And the number of channels on the television!”

Brad laughed. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I think I am,” Nate said, after a moment’s consideration.

“I can throw something together now and make a big dinner later or I can go all out now and we can make do later on.”

“I may not be awake later on,” Nate laughed.

“That settles it. Let me finish changing and I’ll start cooking.” That should have been Brad’s cue to slide off the bed but instead; he just lay there looking at Nate.

For his part, Nate lay propped on the pillows and watched Brad in return.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone to come home to.” Where the fuck had _that_ thought come from?

Nate’s smile was beatific. “How was your day, honey?”

Brad smiled in return, refusing to dwell on the confrontations that had marred his day. Instead, he reached out and cupped Nate’s head, skimming his thumb over the undamaged cheekbone.

Nate was a mess. He had developed a full-fledged black eye; his other cheek was an ugly purple and sporting a nasty scrape, and his lower lip was swollen with a painful looking split.

And still, he was handsome. And still, Brad wanted him. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the uninjured side of Nate’s mouth. When Brad pulled back, Nate’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks briefly before sweeping up as he opened his eyes.

He looked into Nate’s clear green eyes, warm with affection and humor. It was such an unguarded expression and Brad wondered if Nate knew what it was Brad could see. At the same time, he wondered what it was Nate was seeing in his own eyes.

Suddenly, Brad felt adrift in a sea of confusion and gripped by a fear he couldn’t name. He’d shared looks like that with someone before and it had ended ugly. Brad really needed to get his shit together.

He slid quickly from the bed and began rummaging for clothes to put on. “Any special requests?” he asked.

“No,” Nate said softly, confusion lacing his voice. “Beggars can’t really be choosers.”

Brad turned back in annoyance. “You’re a guest, not a charity case,” he said sharply. “And as a good host, I’m willing to put together a meal you would enjoy.”

The heat in Nate’s gaze sent a thrill racing up Brad’s spine. “I have no idea what you just said, and I won’t be able to concentrate until you put on a shirt.”

Brad smiled, feeling very self-satisfied with Nate’s reaction to him physically. _This_ Brad understood. This, he could deal with. Instead of slipping his t-shirt over his head, he unfastened his fatigues and slid them over his hips, letting them fall to the floor.

“How’s your concentration now?” Brad asked, facing his closet and pretending to search for clothes.

“I think I’m gonna pee before my hard-on makes it impossible,” Nate mumbled and slid out of the bed with a surprising lack of difficulty.

Brad stepped into a pair of jeans. “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready,” he said, as Nate disappeared into the bathroom.

He was well into the meal prep when Nate appeared. Brad thought he was moving a little easier.

“I talked to Kit again today,” Nate said as he slid onto the barstool.

“Good news, I hope?” Brad said truthfully.

“Mickey’s going to have to stay in the hospital for a few days but you were right,” Nate answered. “The Social Worker got him qualified for Medicaid so they’re actually treating him pretty well.”

“That’s good. You must be relieved.” Not having to worry about his friends would help Nate relax and let himself heal.

“I am. Kit says the cops closed the case so they’re not looking for either one of us.”

“Also good.”

“And everyone is keeping an eye on my car so it should still be intact when I pick it up tomorrow.”

Brad looked sharply at Nate. “Is there a sense of urgency for retrieving your car?”

Nate seemed puzzled. “No, I just thought you’d be taking me home tomorrow.”

“Is my bed uncomfortable?” Brad asked, feigning insult, but only just. “You’re in an awful hurry to get back to that child-sized bunk you usually sleep in.” He’d been looking forward to an uninterrupted weekend with Nate. He didn’t want to think that Nate was impatient to get home; impatient to be done with Brad’s company.

“Your bed is amazing,” Nate said with an appreciative roll of his eyes. “But you must have things you want to do and I can get around on my own now.”

Brad just stared at Nate, eyebrow raised, waiting for him to provide a reason Brad believed.

“I don’t want to wear out my welcome,” Nate finally confessed.

“How about we agree not to have this conversation again until Sunday night and just enjoy the weekend?” Brad asked, going back to cooking.

Nate shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

Brad considered the topic closed until Sunday night.

“Why did you join the Marines?” Nate asked out of the blue.

Brad looked at him for a time, considering. Nate obviously thought this was a probative question, that Brad’s answering was a continuation of the quid-pro-quo they had going on the night before. He couldn’t know that this was the easiest question for Brad to answer.

“When I got my ass tossed into military school for assorted acts of malicious mischief,” he began, “One of my instructors took an interest in me. The things I’d done weren’t typical rebellious stuff and he asked me why I’d done them.”

“Why had you?” Nate asked.

“Because I was bored and I wanted to see if I could,” Brad answered simply.

“What was his response?”

“That I should consider joining the Corps. It had plenty of activities to keep me from being bored and no shortage of _constructive_ activities for me to try just to see if I could do them.”

“That seems to be working out well for you,” Nate observed.

“It is,” Brad confirmed, then turned the tables. “What are you going to do with your degrees when you graduate?”

“Any number of things,” Nate answered, obviously warming to the topic. “I can work for multi-national corporations; I can work for the State Department, or I could go to work for a politician and advise them on foreign policy. I’ve already been contacted by some recruiters.”

“Of course you have,” Brad said dryly.

“What do you mean by that?” Nate asked defensively.

“I _mean_ you’re really fucking smart, Nate,” Brad replied, nonplussed. “Not only do you learn and understand the facts in your textbooks, but you can apply your analysis of them to the real world.”

Nate was watching Brad with something akin to disbelief. “Pretty impressive for a street whore, huh?”

Brad dropped the knife in his hand onto the counter with a loud clatter. He leaned his hands on the edge and met Nate’s eyes with an angry glare. “Don’t _ever _talk about yourself that way again. Ever.”

Nate’s face was shuttered; completely unreadable. Brad went back to cooking but his anger was barely contained.

After several long, tense moments he asked, “Which of the recruiters’ offers are you leaning towards accepting?”

“There’s a multi-national in D.C. I was considering, thinking I’d be closer to home but …” Nate’s answer was tense and hesitant. “Lately I’ve been thinking there isn’t anything for me back there.”

Brad should _not_ have been happy to hear Nate say that. He had no interest in where Nate took a job; the choice wouldn’t impact him at all. “You’ve had an offer out here?”

“With a political consulting firm,” Nate confirmed. “The offers are comparable.”

“You have to do what’s right for you,” Brad said, spouting some crap a guidance counselor had once told him. It was bullshit then and it was bullshit now.

“I know,” Nate said quietly. “I used to think I knew what that was.”

They kept to safer, neutral topics while they ate. It turned out Nate didn’t know much about combustion engines but he was a quick study when Brad explained things. The important thing was; he was interested. He wanted to learn to jet ski, too.

Nate knew a lot about Judaism, it turned out. Not the practice of it; which Brad understood far better, for obvious reasons, but the history of the culture and the reasons behind ongoing conflicts. He was gorgeous when he warmed to his topic, speaking with firm authority and enthusiastic hand gestures.

Brad shared his pack of Skittles with Nate and they ended up fighting over the last green one.

Brad let Nate win.

Nate stubbornly insisted on helping Brad clean up. It was just the two of them, so there wasn’t much to do but he could tell that Nate had pushed himself a little too hard.

“Let’s go watch TV in my bed,” Brad suggested. “That way when you crash and burn, cause you will, you’ll already be comfortable.”

Nate agreed and headed off to the bedroom. Brad retrieved a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil from the pantry and followed Nate.

He still remembered the day a friend of his grandmother’s had told him that extra-virgin olive oil worked as a topical analgesic. Brad dismissed it as hippy-holistic-pussy-bullshit until he’d pulled something badly in a training exercise and had resorted to the oil in desperation. He didn’t know how it worked; he only knew that it did.

In the bedroom, Brad spread a towel out on the bedspread, had Nate remove his shirt and lay face down so he could see the television. Brad set a spare towel on the bed and crawled up beside him. Nate opted to watch the news and Brad thought that was a good idea until he was reminded just how much he hated the talking heads that passed for news anchors. Still, it gave him an idea of the topics he needed to search out articles on so he could get the real facts without the bullshit spin of the bubble-headed failed model on the screen who seemed to be overly enamored with the sound of her own voice.

Brad warmed the oil between his hands and then rubbed them gently over Nate’s back. Little pressure was needed, as the idea was to get the oil into the skin. He ran his hands over Nate’s back, up over his shoulders and down to his hips. Nate relaxed under his hands, but after a short while, Brad was distracted by the television and he ended up idly caressing Nate’s back.

Realizing what he was doing, Brad quietly instructed Nate to flip over. Moving slowly, Nate complied. His eyes found Brad’s unerringly, filled with heat and challenge and other things Brad didn’t have the courage to name. Tearing his own gaze away, Brad was confronted with the tantalizing sight of Nate’s cockhead, swollen and red, edging up over the waist of his sleep pants and pressing against his belly.

“_Nathaniel_,” Brad said in mock chastisement.

“It’s your fault,” Nate said, churlishly.

Reaching for the remote, Brad turned down the volume on the television. He added oil to his hands and began to run them over Nate’s naked chest and belly. He watched Nate closely, not daring to look away from his smoldering eyes and wet, parted lips.

Whenever Brad skimmed his hands down Nate’s sides, he flexed his hips slightly. Nate might be feeling discomfort from his bruises but he was reacting to Brad’s nurturing in a very healthy way. Nate was always responsive to Brad; it was one of the things he liked best about him.

He gently slid Nate’s pants down his hips, exposing the full length of his cock. Brad wrapped both oil-slick hands around Nate’s erection and stroked upward. He watched as Nate arched his neck and his eyes fluttered shut. The groan he released was lewd and fucking pornographic. Brad felt it all the way to his own dick.

Nate fisted the bedspread and pressed his hips upward into Brad’s hands. He fucked himself in and out of Brad’s fists, a strangled moan accompanying each thrust. Brad kept his lower hand loose but tightened the grip with his top one, squeezing tight at the head of Nate’s cock, just as he liked it.

“Oh, fuck, Brad,” Nate groaned through his teeth, neck arched, head thrown back and a bright flush spreading up his chest and throat.

_Christ_, but Nate was fucking hot like this; unselfconscious and coming apart in Brad’s hands. His own cock was hard and leaking, pressing painfully against the fly of his jeans. Brad wanted badly to strip Nate naked, spread him out and fuck into him hard and fast. Instead, he focused on making Nate come.

“Is that how you like it?” Brad asked in a rough voice as he watched Nate writhe under his hands. “Is that gonna make you come?”

“Yeah, fuck yeah,” Nate breathed.

“Let it go, then,” Brad urged. “Come for me. Let me feel you come.”

Nate’s chest heaved as his body rocked violently with the force of his climax. His cock twitched in Brad’s hands, pulsing with each thick jet of warm come. Puddles formed on Nate’s chest and ropes coated Brad’s hand. All the while, Nate groaned deep and low in his throat.

When Nate collapsed onto the bed, still breathing heavily, Brad took the spare towel and wiped them both down. He looked so ethereal, lying spent and debauched on Brad’s bed. Again, Brad felt the nearly overwhelming desire to fuck himself into Nate’s body.

Even as he rejected this thought, knowing Nate’s injuries were still too fresh and tender, he watched in surprise as Nate slid his sleep pants the rest of the way from his body.

Gently rolling himself back onto his stomach, Nate presented his firm, rounded ass. Brad tore open his own fly to give himself some relief from the pressure. Unable to stop himself, Brad smoothed his still oily hands over the tempting flesh.

“You fucking cocktease,” Brad growled. “You _know_ I can’t do anything.”

“Yes, you can,” Nate argued, shooting Brad a fiery look over his shoulder. “Use the oil, rub yourself against me. You won’t hurt me.”

Brad wasn’t so sure but his resolve was weakening. He straddled Nate’s thighs and took himself out of his jeans and stroked fresh oil along his shaft and his ball sac. Leaning forward, Brad nestled his cock in between Nate’s ass cheeks. He lacked the intention or the angle to breach Nate, but each thrust of his hips gave him a smooth glide through the cleft.

Nate’s body was warm and fragrant and the feel of his cock sliding along that welcoming body made Brad’s heart clench in his chest. His hands came to rest on either side of Nate’s head and he found he couldn’t move any longer. Brad pressed his forehead to the back Nate’s neck and just tried to breathe.

_Fuck,_ but Brad was losing his mind. He _liked _Nate; he liked his intelligence, his sense of humor and the way he seemed to like Brad in return. He’d stopped thinking of him as a whore and just thought of him as _Nate._

And that’s where Brad was so fucked. Nate was used to trading money and services. Brad was providing food, shelter, and medical care and Nate was trading sexual services. Christ, it was an arrangement Brad could usually endorse but he didn’t want Nate’s gratitude or his sense of obligation. He wanted Nate to want this; he _needed_ Nate to want this.

Brad felt strong fingers twine with his own. He felt Nate turn his head slightly to try to see Brad’s face.

“I can’t,” Brad said against Nate’s neck, his voice torn and shattered with his raging emotions. “You’re not obligated …” he started, and then found he couldn’t finish the sentence.

The fingers gripping his tightened and held on.

“Who hurt you, Brad?” Nate asked softly.

Brad shook his head in the negative against Nate’s neck. He didn’t understand the question.

“Who hurt you so badly that you don’t believe anyone could ever want you just for yourself?” Nate’s question cut Brad clear to the bone.

Brad felt himself start to tremble in reaction. He didn’t want to remember when he’d learned that who he was wasn’t good enough. He didn’t want to sob against Nate’s neck.

“This is just you and me, Brad,” Nate whispered. “This is just Nate wanting Brad ‘cause he’s smart and funny; he’s got beautiful blue eyes and magic hands and he can cook.”

Nate began to move against Brad, encouraging him to resume his thrusts. Brad moved hesitantly against Nate, not quite daring to trust in what Nate had said.

“That’s it,” Nate encouraged. “Rock yourself off against me. You make me feel so good, I want to make you feel just as good. Did you like watching me come?”

“Yeah,” Brad groaned, remembering Nate’s face as he came. He thrust a little faster against Nate’s ass.

“Did you like feeling my hot come on your fingers?” Nate asked breathlessly and Brad liked it. He liked the memory of Nate’s come on his hand.

“Fuck yeah,” Brad growled, giving a sharp snap of his hips.

“That’s it,” Nate said, moving in time with Brad’s thrusts. “Get yourself off against my ass. Let me feel it. Come all over me. Use me to get yourself off. I wanna feel you come all over my ass and my back.”

It never ceased to amaze Brad how such a pretty, innocent looking kid could think up some of the filthy things he’d done to Brad’s body. The sound of those lewd words dripping off that beautiful mouth was about all Brad could stand.

Throwing back his head with a primal cry, Brad came against Nate’s ass. His arms shook, in danger of failing to hold his weight up any longer. His muscles all clenched, forcing him hard up against Nate’s body. When he could move to look down at himself, he watched rope after rope of thick white come spasm from the tip of his dick and land to coat either Nate’s ass or his lower back.

Brad couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head and sank his teeth into the muscle at the juncture of Nate’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” Nate said loudly. “Add your goddamn teeth to the list of things I like about you.”

Brad pulled back and looked at the spot where he’d bitten down. He could still see the impression of his own teeth. He’d fucking _marked_ Nate as his own and he liked that feeling.

Nate collapsed onto the bed beneath Brad so he pulled away gently and cleaned them both with the spare towel. He just about had his breathing and his shaking hands under control.

When Nate flipped over onto this back, he looked sated and self-satisfied and just about ready to fall asleep. Brad felt like he could easily join him, no matter how early it was. He stripped off his clothes and slid under the covers. He encouraged Nate to crawl under with him. Brad propped himself against a pile of pillows and pulled Nate back to rest against his chest, tucking his head under Brad’s chin.

Nate slipped easily into sleep as Brad cradled him close, watching the images on the television without really seeing them at all.

~*~

Brad’s hands were covered in grease as he tinkered with his beloved motorcycle. The bike and the jet skis were spread out in the driveway as he conducted his weekend motor maintenance. Brad was dressed in ratty jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days.

Since Nate had only brought a single change of clothes, Brad had dug out a ripped pair of sweats and another ancient t-shirt for him. Nate was swimming in Brad’s clothes and he couldn’t help but smile every time he looked at him.

As Brad worked, he explained the inner workings of the engine and how the different parts of the bike all worked together to make the whole such a marvel of speed and handling. Nate was a quick study. He remembered the names of parts easily and grasped enough physics and engineering that he could appreciate how the whole thing worked. Brad had taken to quizzing Nate periodically and fuck if he didn’t retain just about everything they covered.

He might not ever share Brad’s love of speed and combustion engines but he sure as hell _understood_ it – the passion and not just the mechanics - and that’s more than Brad had ever had before.

Nate grasped the concept of the four-stroke engine as quickly as he grasped everything else. He confessed he’d always wanted to learn to jet ski and to SCUBA dive. Brad couldn’t help the big dopey grin he knew he was sporting. He was more than happy to help Nate master both sports.

Talk turned to activities Nate already enjoyed and they discovered a mutual love of hiking and rock climbing. Nate challenged Brad to a bouldering competition, teasing him that his too-tall body made his center of gravity harder to manage and he was therefore unstable. Nate maintained that his more compact stature gave him an advantage.

They’d have to test that theory someday soon.

When Nate’s shoulders slumped and dark circles of fatigue showed under his eyes, Brad bundled him off to bed for a nap. He brought Nate’s school materials close to him so he could study when he woke, then changed his clothes and went out to run errands.

At the bank, Brad pulled out less cash than he had in previous weeks. He also realized he had a much shorter drive than usual before he could gather Nate up against him and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe.

At the drycleaner he dropped off last week’s fatigues and picked up the clean ones. After Iraq and spending weeks in the same clothes, Brad liked and appreciated fresh, clean uniforms.

Which reminded him; he was out of socks and skivvies and needed to do laundry when he got home.

Brad stopped at the supermarket and stocked up on the necessities, plus anything and everything he thought would appeal to Nate. He made sure to get plenty of Skittles.

When Brad got home, Nate was spread out at his kitchen table studying. He was reading from a book, tapping notes into his laptop and had his earbuds firmly in place. Brad stepped into his line of sight.

“It is so fucking easy to study here!” Nate enthused as he took the earbuds out. “It’s quiet and there are no interruptions.”

 “Except me,” Brad said sheepishly, handing Nate a soda.

“You’ve been gone for hours, though,” he said between sips of soda. “And if I asked for some quiet time to study you’d go all Recon-Marine-stealthy on me, wouldn’t you?”

Brad smiled at Nate with affection and humor. “How ‘bout I go all stealthy and go shower so you can keep studying?”

“Would you please?” Nate said, laughing outwardly and twisting something in Brad’s chest. “You’re getting impossible to be around but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Little shit,” Brad said, smiling and dropping a kiss on the top of Nate’s head as he passed.

When the fuck did Brad start doing casual affection?

He stripped down and headed for the bathroom. He could hear the silence of the house, but like when he’d come home yesterday; it was a full silence, not an empty one. It felt as though everything was just waiting for something exciting to happen.

Brad stood under the hot spray, remembering the night before and Nate’s softly spoken words that had threatened to shatter his soul. After his fiancé and his best friend had told him things weren’t working out - he was too complicated, too exacting and never home enough for a _real_ commitment - he’d taken it to heart and turned to professionals for sex and companionship with a term limit. The two people he’d been closest to in the world had made him feel as though he weren’t worthy of love, but claimed they still wanted to be friends.

Then Nate had come along and told Brad he _was_ worth loving and exactly why. He wanted to believe but a part of Brad thought this whole thing was so spectacularly fucked up he couldn’t possibly salvage a happy ending from it.

Brad was suddenly alert as the air in the bathroom shifted subtly. He was surprised but not startled when the shower door opened and Nate stepped in, gloriously naked and already partially hard.

“Okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around Brad’s waist and pressing his lips to Brad’s back. “The thought of you naked, in a shower and within reach is just not conducive to studying.”

Brad chuckled. “There I go, interrupting you again.”

“It was time for a break anyway,” Nate said lightly, his hands running over Brad’s lower back. “I’ve wanted to get a closer look at your tattoo.”

“Have you?” Brad murmured, enjoying the feel of Nate’s hands on his skin but uneasy with Nate’s interest in his ink.

“It’s huge; it must have taken a long time.” Nate dragged his blunt nails over the art and Brad shivered in response. “It’s colorful.”

Brad made a non-committal sound, waiting for Nate to criticize and pass judgment on him.

“It suits you,” Nate said, pressing his entire body against the length of Brad’s. “Bright colors and a controlled rebellion hidden beneath multiple layers that have to be peeled away carefully and patiently. It’s worth the effort, though, to reach the beauty.”

Nate’s words stole Brad’s breath like he’d been punched in the gut. He hadn’t expected such easy understanding and acceptance and he didn’t know what to do with it.

Nate seemed oblivious to Brad’s turmoil as he reached for a washcloth and the shower gel.

 Brad let his head fall forward as Nate ran the soapy cloth over his back and shoulders. He moaned at how good the soft abrasiveness felt and he understood why Nate had gotten hard the other night. It felt _good_ to be nurtured this way. The fact that he could feel Nate’s naked body brushing and pressing up against him just made it that much better.

He spread his legs slightly when Nate’s bare, soapy hands caressed his ass cheeks and reached between his thighs. Brad moaned again when Nate’s soap-slicked hand cupped his balls briefly before moving back to caress his asshole. He pressed backward minutely, anticipating Nate breaching him, but Nate’s hand kept moving up.

Brad sighed at the pleasure of Nate rinsing off the soap he’d just applied. It was different, having someone else take such care with cleaning him so intimately. Different; but pretty fucking fantastic.

Nate stepped around Brad until they stood facing each other. He placed open-mouthed kisses on Brad’s chest, biting down occasionally only to sooth the spot with a lick of his tongue. Brad ran his hands over Nate’s back while he watched him, fascinated by the spread of his lips and the flash of his pink tongue.

Stepping back, Nate put shower gel on the cloth again. This time, he smoothed it over Brad’s chest, running it down over his belly. Nate paid close attention to Brad’s nipples, rubbing the rough cloth over one, then the other. They firmed and budded under Nate’s attention and Brad moaned, running his nails down Nate’s back in response to the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, Nate,” Brad groaned when Nate reached between his thighs with soapy hands.

“This is me,” Nate said between kisses to Brad’s chest. “Taking care of you, because I want to. You haven’t cooked for me, today; you haven’t bathed me, and you haven’t had to dress my wounds.”

Nate tugged firmly at Brad’s cock, stroking it to full hardness. His other hand fondled Brad’s balls, rolling them gently, grazing his perineum occasionally with his middle finger.

Brad growled on an exhale when Nate rinsed him off, fondling and stroking the entire time. He lowered his head, wanting to capture Nate’s mouth. He was rewarded with those fucking sexy lips pressing against his but instead of pressing his tongue into Brad’s mouth, Nate whispered against them instead.

“This is me,” Nate said. “Sucking your cock because I like to. I like the way you run your fingers through my hair and hold my head. I like the way you taste. I like the sounds you make when you come.”

Brad watched in stunned silence as Nate dropped to his knees and took Brad’s cock into his mouth. Nate kept his eyes on Brad’s the entire time he worked his way down. He didn’t use any fancy tricks, he didn’t play around. Nate just opened his mouth wide and slid it down Brad’s cock.

“Christ, Nate,” Brad hissed, slamming his hands into the shower stall in front of him. He struggled not to shove himself down Nate’s throat.

Nate worked Brad with both his mouth and his hand. His second hand snaked back and caressed Brad’s hole. He’d been sucked and fucked before but it always felt clinical, as if his partner was calculating how to please him. Nate made it feel like he wanted to be the one to make Brad lose control.

Brad buried his fingers in Nate’s hair. He’d said he liked this and Nate’s mouth was making Brad so fucking happy he wanted to return the favor. He curled his fingers and tugged roughly at the strands he held. Nate groaned around Brad’s cock.

He looked down and saw Nate watching him. Those direct green eyes looked straight into Brad and Nate’s sexy mouth stretched perfectly around the width of his dick.

Brad could feel his orgasm rising. His spine tightened and shockwaves began to roll through his hips and down his thighs. It occurred to him he needed to warn Nate; they hadn’t used a condom.

Nate was paying attention, though. Brad shouldn’t be surprised. Nate was watching him so closely, gauging his responses and tuning into them, he’d have to know when Brad started to come. He pulled back and stroked Brad to his climax. Just as Brad tilted over the edge, Nate pressed a finger up and into his body.

Brad came hard, firing his come on the wall of the shower. He groaned through grit teeth as he was overcome by sensation. Nate’s hand milked Brad, squeezing stream after stream of come from his dick until he got the final drop.

Brad breathed heavily for several moments. He willed his legs to steady and his knees to hold him up. Then he helped Nate to stand. Brad wrapped his arms around Nate and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” Brad asked against Nate’s lips. “Or are you up to fucking me?”

“I don’t want to kill the mood but my ribs are starting to hurt,” Nate confessed.

Brad shut off the water and wrapped a towel around Nate.

“If I help you into bed, do you think you can tolerate getting your dick sucked?” Brad asked with a grin.

“If I have to, I think I can manage that.”

 


	6. When the Silence Is Full

Nate was up early on Sunday, showered, his overnight bag packed and his laptop and books back in his book bag. He set everything by the door to the garage, and then seemed to wait expectantly for Brad.

Walking into the kitchen, Brad glanced over at Nate where he sat at the kitchen table. He’d thought to take Nate to get his car and take it back to his dorm and then come back here for the night. Brad was going to have Nate take the Mustang to class for the next few days. Watching Nate sitting tensely at the table, Brad had to repress the disappointment spreading through him.

Brad went to the refrigerator and started pulling out what he needed to make breakfast. “How many eggs do you want?” he asked with forced casualness.

“Brad, you don’t have to cook breakfast,” Nate’s tone was almost pleading.

“Aren’t you hungry?” He turned to gauge Nate’s reaction. He still looked tense, but he also wore an expression Brad couldn’t yet identify. It was time to gather more intel.

“Well … yeah, I could eat.” Nate was conflicted, Brad realized.

“How many eggs?” Brad asked again.

“Three,” Nate answered and seemed to want to say more.

Brad kept Nate talking as he cooked, anxious to uncover why he seemed so flustered. Nate was easy to engage. He seemed as eager to talk as he ever did. He was just as witty and observant as he ever was. Brad couldn’t see any signs that Nate _wanted_ to go home; no signs that he was tired of Brad’s company or that he was unhappy or uncomfortable here in Brad’s house.

He just couldn’t get past the bags by the door.

Nate did the majority of the cleaning up once they’d eaten. Brad began to suspect he knew what was bothering Nate. He didn’t want to leave Brad; he was enjoying himself here. It was just that Nate had begun to feel like a burden.

Brad was going to set him straight. He just had to do it carefully or risk triggering Nate’s stubborn, independent streak.

He stood and stretched, announcing he was going to take a shower.

“You can join me again,” Brad said, leering at Nate as he drew him into his arms. “I can wash you this time.”

Nate went into Brad’s arms easily, leaning against him and wrapping his arms around him tightly. This was good. This was very good.

“If I do that, we’ll never leave to get my car,” Nate hummed a laugh into Brad’s neck.

“And that’s a bad thing, how?” Brad replied, licking at the corner of Nate’s mouth and feeling the answering shudder.

“I need my car, Brad,” Nate said through a chuckle. “And that motel isn’t in the best of neighborhoods.”

Brad couldn’t argue with that fact. “I’ll make the shower quick,” he said, thinking to release Nate but unable to do so.

“Sitting in the car with you is going to be fucking torture,” Nate sighed. “You’re going to be all clean and smelling like soap and aftershave.”

Brad stared vacantly at Nate’s bags by the door and wondered if it would be as easy as asking Nate not to go; at the very least inviting him to come back once they’d retrieved his car. He just couldn’t risk saying the words.

“We could take the motorcycle,” Brad heard himself say and he wondered where the fuck that idea had come from. “With all the wind you’ll be safe from my alluring scent.”

“Sure,” Nate said sardonically after pretending to give the idea some thought. “But then I’ll have you pressed between my legs. Frying pan … fire …”

Brad noticed that Nate hadn’t exactly said no. “It _would_ be fun, though.” Suddenly, Brad was struck with an idea. “You’d have to leave your stuff here, though. There’s obviously not enough room for your books and laptop as well as the two of us.”

He watched Nate’s head swivel around to look at his own neatly stacked possessions. “Well … if you want to take the bike … I can leave my school stuff but I need a change of clothes for tomorrow …”

Well _fuck_, it really had been that easy. Brad wondered if he wasn’t learning how to navigate around Nate’s stubborn streak.

“Empty your backpack and take it with you,” Brad said. “Leave everything else here and pack a few days’ worth of clothes and just wear the backpack on our way home.”

Brad wondered if Nate had caught his use of the word ‘home’. He certainly seemed to grasp that Brad had told him to pack for several days.

“Wait,” Nate said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I have class in the morning.”

“Take the Mustang,” Brad replied, as if it were obvious. “I take my bike to work, anyway.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nate protested.

“Then drive your clunker back here but you and I both know that Mustang is more reliable.” Brad circled the logic around hoping Nate was still following.

“I … guess …” Nate obviously wanted to argue.

“Good,” Brad said, as if that settled everything. “I’ll take a quick shower and we’ll go.” He kissed the side of Nate’s head as he walked away and virtually willed Nate not to argue.

After he’d showered – very quickly – Brad zipped Nate into a spare leather jacket. Nate managed the helmet himself and climbed confidently onto the seat behind Brad.

Nate held onto Brad tightly, but he wasn’t clingy and didn’t clutch like he was afraid. He leaned and moved easily with Brad as they turned corners and wove through traffic.

Rolling to an easy stop in the motel parking lot, Brad saw that Nate’s small car looked none the worse for its time alone. It was covered in a fine layer of grime but it wasn’t as if that could detract any further from the car’s attractiveness.

Brad kept quiet, though. It was Nate’s student car and probably the most he could safely afford.

He followed Nate to his dorm and as Nate parked, Brad tucked himself into an out of the way corner to let Nate run up and pack. Brad watched Nate start to cross to his building when he suddenly turned and jogged straight up to Brad.

He was pleasantly surprised when Nate placed a firm kiss on his mouth, then pulled back and smiled. Brad felt like the sun was shining just on him.

“I’ll make it really quick,” Nate said, backing away, biting his lower lip.

“I’ll be here waiting,” Brad replied, inordinately pleased at Nate’s spontaneous show of affection.

Nate was in and out, backpack filled with clothes, in a few short minutes. The bike had been a good idea, Brad mused. It was great weather and light traffic and he got to have Nate wrapped around him and pressed against him.

Brad offered drawer space for Nate’s clothes but he insisted everything was fine once they were transferred to his duffel and his books once again took up residence in his backpack. Nate settled down to study some more so Brad decided to lay low in his office, paying bills and answering email.

Brad worked quietly, strangely content, until Nate suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking desperate. “If I have to read one more word about the use of metrics to project sales figures I’m going to lose what’s left of my mind.”

“I thought you had to be flirting with insanity to pick the fields of study you did,” Brad replied dryly. “But I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Can we make dinner and then do nothing that requires brain cells?” Nate asked, clearly playing the pitiful card.

Brad thought that was a stellar plan and shut down his computer with an email unsent. Fuck it.

They cooked dinner, launching only one minor food fight. Since Brad started it, Nate mandated that he had to clean it up, too. He ordered Brad around, barking out commands as if he were born to it. That’s probably the reason there was only _one _food fight.

When they’d cleaned up from dinner, Nate changed into his sleep pants and tank top. Brad figured it was safe to wear minimal clothing now so he slid on the offensive boxers that he had to admit were coming in handy.

Nate climbed up on the bed and stacked the pillows to his satisfaction and told Brad they were going to watch ‘Austin Powers’. He couldn’t bring himself to object, even if he’d wanted to. This bossy Nate interested Brad. It was reassuring, and pretty fucking hot, that Nate asserted himself. He liked this. Maybe not full time, but Brad was more than willing to see where this took them tonight.

Brad watched the movie with his back to the pillows and Nate pressed to his chest. Halfway through, Brad realized _he _was Nate’s pillow. He kind of liked the job, since he got to wrap his arms around Nate’s chest, as Nate tucked his head under Brad’s chin.

He couldn’t decide what was funnier; the movie itself or Nate reciting his favorite lines along with the characters on screen. Brad was surprised at how often he laughed out loud, something he rarely did.

When the movie was over, Nate was the one who shut down the equipment and the lights. Brad watched him with undisguised humor as he moved around the room as if he belonged. Shifting the pillows around, getting ready to sleep, Brad realized he liked that Nate seemed to belong.

When Nate rummaged in his duffel, Brad started to crawl under the covers. Suddenly, Nate bounced up on the bed. “What do you think you’re doing, Sergeant?”

Nate’s raised eyebrows in the dim light of the single lamp, along with his commanding tone, had Brad wanting to jump to attention. It also made his cock ache. Nate had something in his hands but he couldn’t make out what it was.

“Going to bed, sir,” Brad answered, wondering where this was all going to end up.

“Not in those ridiculous shorts,” Nate said, voice heavy with scorn. He reached for the waist of Brad’s shorts and started to tug them down. Brad could see what Nate had brought to bed, then; wrist cuffs.

Oh, yes, please.

“What’s wrong with my shorts?” Brad asked in mock outrage. “They’re unbelievably comfortable.”

Nate tossed the offending garment across the room. “They were fine until I saw you parading around in those tight black numbers you usually wear.”

“All due respect, sir,” Brad said, reclining back on the pillows and reaching to stroke his own cock. “I don’t ‘parade’. I have too much dignity.”

Nate started to strip off his own clothes and Brad’s cock surged.

“Your dignity retreats from the field of battle when my cock is up your ass, Sergeant,” Nate laughed as he slid his naked body along the length of Brad’s.

“I do not recall that to be the case,” Brad feigned serious consideration of the topic. “I may need reminding.”

Nate pressed his chest to Brad’s back as they lay on their sides. He felt Nate wrap a hand around his chest and hold him close. Brad covered Nate’s hand on his chest with one of his own. Nate pressed his hips into Brad, grinding his cock against him. Brad pressed backward, encouraging him. It occurred to him vaguely that Nate was still pretty bruised and this might be too strenuous for him. The repeated slide of Nate’s cock against Brad’s skin left him unable to think of anything except how to get Nate to slide inside of him.

“Where do you keep your supplies?” Nate whispered as he licked up the side of Brad’s neck and nipped at his earlobe.

Brad rocked forward to pull the lube and several condoms from his bedside table. Nate took them all from him. He seemed to have a plan of action and he also seemed to want to dictate the tempo of their activities tonight. Brad was just fine with that.

Nate humped against Brad’s body, breathing heavily against his shoulder. He placed a kiss on the back of Brad’s neck. “I’m so hard for you,” he whispered into Brad’s ear.

“I’ve been hard for you since you stripped me,” Brad replied.

Nate bit the tendon in the back of Brad’s neck. He sucked on Brad’s earlobe, and then swiped his tongue along the sensitive shell of his ear. Nate placed a hand on Brad’s cheek and turned his face for a kiss.

They lingered with their lips pressed together, teasing one another with their tongues. “I want to fuck you,” Nate whispered into Brad’s mouth.

Brad’s cock throbbed at Nate’s words. “Not if you’re going to ask politely like some fucking pussy,” Brad growled, nipping at the side of Nate’s mouth, still being careful of his split lip.

In response, Nate gripped Brad’s arm hard and forcibly held him still while he hissed into Brad’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you, Sergeant, so get ready to take my cock up your ass.”

“I like it hard, sir,” Brad challenged, a thrill running up his spine. “Think you’re man enough to give it to me?”

“I guess when you lose your dignity and end up moaning my name, you’ll have your answer,” Nate fired back without missing a beat.

Nate slid his hand down Brad’s chest and over his belly. Brad sucked in a breath as the touch sent a jolt through his system. Nate wrapped his fingers lightly around Brad’s hard cock and stroked it once…twice… Brad moaned loudly and silently cursed himself for being so easy. He leaned up and took Nate’s lips in a deep, wet kiss.

Nate’s hand left Brad’s cock, much to his frustration. His hand reappeared clutching the bottle of lube. Nate handed the bottle to Brad who squeezed some out onto Nate’s fingers. He moved his hand between Brad’s ass cheeks. Brad hissed at the surprising coldness of the lube. They both laughed quietly at Brad’s reaction.

Nate slid a finger inside of Brad’s hole. He spread the lube around inside before adding a second finger and Brad relaxed around Nate’s hand.

“Roll over for me,” Nate’s voiced rasped into the dim light of the room.

Brad turned himself face down onto the bed. He moved slowly, arching his back and popping his ass out toward Nate, teasing; enticing. He came to rest with his thighs spread wide in invitation, his knees drawn up to his sides, granting Nate full access. Brad hoped Nate would introduce those cuffs pretty fucking soon.

Nate took Brad’s invitation; he dragged his tongue along Brad’s heavy ball sac and up along the cleft of his ass. He tensed in reaction to the intense sensations of Nate’s hot tongue licking his ass. Brad’s hole tightened in anticipation of Nate’s tongue. He shuddered and clenched when Nate probed his opening with a stiffened tongue.

Brad moaned loudly in the quiet room and Nate responded by dragging his tongue from Brad’s balls to his spine. He was almost fucking embarrassed by the neediness in his second moan. Nate licked a broad strip from Brad’s ass, along the length of his spine. He sucked patches of skin into his mouth and released them with a scrape of teeth. Brad arched into Nate’s mouth when he bit lightly on each of his hips before licking up to ribs. It was then that Brad realized Nate was, in a way, worshiping his tattoo. He’d never experienced that before. It had only ever been seen as a curiosity before Nate thought to lavish it with affection.

Nate grasped Brad’s ass cheeks and spread them. He pressed his face tight against the crevice and teased Brad’s puckered hole with the firm tip of his tongue. Brad groaned and flexed his hips in response, his cock leaking as it reached full hardness. Nate pulled back slightly and ran his thumb along Brad’s hole. He smeared his own spittle, mixing it with the lube and using it to ease the entry of his thumb into Brad’s body.

Brad growled and rocked back into Nate’s hand, eager to be fucked.

Nate pulled back gently and rose up on his knees. Brad was suddenly pressed roughly into the mattress. Nate shifted over him until he was straddling Brad’s hips and shoving Brad’s legs together. Heat pressed into Brad’s back where Nate lay over him. Nate’s hands encircled Brad’s wrists; he stopped moving in order to listen to Nate whisper harshly against his ear.

“I’m going to cuff you to the bed.” _That_ particular tone was still in Nate’s voice and Brad’s entire being reacted to it. “I’m going to open you up and I’m going to fuck your ass. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Brad said through gritted teeth, struggling not to rub himself off against the sheets from just the sound of Nate’s voice.

“You’re not going to do anything but lay there and take it,” Nate continued. “Understood?”

“Yes, _sir_.” Brad couldn’t hold back the moan that accompanied that last word. Fuck yeah, he could lie there and let someone else worry and work for his pleasure.

Nate shifted and then one of Brad’s wrists was being encased in a leather cuff.

“If I have to tie you down in order to do this, that’s what I’ll fucking do,” Nate said as he fastened the buckles. “You’ve been treating me like a fucking girl for days when all I want is a good, hard _fuck_.”

Christ, but nobody ever had the guts to push Brad around and demand what they wanted. Brad hadn’t realized just how fucking tired he was of asking and guessing and hoping. Brad watched the second cuff wrap around his wrist. Nate hooked the cuffs together with a carabineer, and then fastened them to a slat in the headboard with a second one.

“You need to get the fuck out of your own head, Sergeant,” Nate said as he sat up. “You’re always so careful and guarded and _precise_. Just let it the fuck go.”

“I’ll try, sir.” Brad was mortified at the quaver in his voice. Jesus, when did Nate learn to push Brad’s buttons so well?

Nate rested one leg to the outside of Brad’s and pressed his other knee between Brad’s thighs. He had no choice but to spread his legs and let Nate do as he pleased. He felt as open and vulnerable as he would if he were on all fours with his ass cheeks spread wide.

Brad heard the lid of the lube bottle snick open and closed. Then, Nate’s hand was pressed between his cheeks and rubbing at his opening. He tried not to clench at the intrusion but Nate had him so fucking keyed up, he couldn’t help it.

Nate was relentless when he pressed a finger into Brad’s ass, lubing him generously.

“Christ, relax, Brad,” Nate chided. “You’re acting like a nervous fucking virgin.”

“Sorry, sir,” Brad replied automatically, unthinkingly.

Nate pressed his thumb into Brad and tugged and stretched. Brad hissed at the pleasing discomfort. He canted his hips upward, trying to take more of Nate in.

“If I can get you to make that beautiful sound with just my thumb,” Nate taunted. “Imagine what noises you’ll make with my cock inside you.”

There were sounds of a condom wrapper tearing, then Nate abruptly shoved his second knee between Brad’s thighs, forcing them further apart. He still wasn’t very wide open. He’d open himself up further for Nate, if that’s what he wanted from Brad. He’d lay himself wide open for Nate if he asked.

Nate grabbed Brad’s ass cheeks roughly and pushed them up and apart. In a single swift motion Nate was lined up and pressing inexorably inward. Brad was breached quickly and deeply. He rose up to meet the thrust.

Brad felt Nate rock his weight forward and rise up over his back. Nate let his weight and gravity work together until he was balls deep in Brad’s ass. Apparently, Nate wasn’t satisfied with his leverage so he swung a leg over the top of one of Brad’s thighs. Brad’s hips were held steady in Nate’s iron grip, keeping him spread wide. This time, Brad felt Nate’s weight sink him deep, until he dragged himself out, leaving only the head of his cock embedded inside.

Brad cried out at the pressure and sensation, fisting his hands in the bedspread. Suddenly, Brad’s body relaxed of its own volition. His brain and his body had caught up with one another and synced. Brad surrendered. He grunted and moaned with each downward snap of Nate’s hips. This was good. This was so fucking good. Brad could hear and feel Nate’s balls slapping against his body with each thrust of Nate’s hips.

Nate’s movements inside of Brad slowed then stilled. “Can you turn over for me?” Nate’s voice was fucking wrecked.

Brad shifted, working the carabineers to allow him to twist over so he was face up with Nate kneeling between his open thighs. Brad looked up and found himself staring straight into Nate’s green eyes. Brad wanted to speak; he wanted to unleash something sarcastic and witty but Nate rendered him fucking mute.

His eyes fell shut as Nate leaned down and kissed him. It was wet and filthy, just like Brad liked it. Nate sat up and Brad opened his eyes to see him. His gaze was drawn to Nate’s red and swollen lips. His eyes were slightly glazed and Brad was gratified he wasn’t the only one on a razor’s edge here.

Without warning, Nate grabbed Brad behind the knees and pressed them to the mattress on either side of his body. Brad grunted at the strain but he couldn’t help smiling. Nate was going to fuck him now, hard and fast like he needed. Nate looked away from Brad’s face long enough to line himself up and then he plunged deep inside in a single thrust.

The force of the fucking Nate was giving him was tearing helpless sounds from Brad. Nate had vowed to strip Brad of his dignity by fucking him and he was proving as good as his word. Nate watched Brad closely with each thrust, seeming to see right into him. Brad just wanted to be fucked, he didn’t want to be seen so he tossed his head back and screwed his eyes shut.

Brad was surprised to feel Nate lunge upward and press his open palms to Brad’s shoulders, shoving him more firmly into the bed. Brad gasped as Nate worked his cock deeper into him, slamming down and in roughly.

“Brad, look at me,” Nate growled through gritted teeth, but Brad refused, keeping his eyes tightly closed. “Damn it, Brad,” Nate raised his sex-roughened voice. “Open your fucking eyes.”

Brad’s eyes flew open at the harshness of Nate’s tone. He sounded pissed and Brad didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. He must have seen Brad’s confusion because Nate’s expression suddenly softened.

“I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” Nate’s voice was broken and punctuated by each of his violent thrusts. “I want you to know just who’s fucking you. I want to know you _know_ it’s me fucking you.”

“There’s never a doubt it’s you fucking me, sir.” Brad sounded as though each word were being forced out of him by Nate’s cock. “Even with my eyes closed I can still feel it’s you; I can still smell that it’s you.”

Brad’s words seemed to make Nate redouble his efforts. Brad cried out each time Nate’s hips met his ass. Brad knew his sounds were plain undignified but it just felt so fucking good.

Nate slowed his pace, sitting back on his heels. Brad growled in frustration, missing the feeling of his body being ridden roughly and filled deeply.

“Not so perfectly in control now, are you, Sergeant?” Nate taunted, running his hands up Brad’s belly and covering his nipples. Nate squeezed each of the buds of flesh between his thumbs and forefingers and Brad arched up off the bed.

He groaned when Nate dragged his thumbnails over the nipples he’d just pinched, throwing his head back and closing his eyes at the intensity of the sensation. Brad’s cock shifted and twitched on his belly, leaving a wet line of pre-come on his skin.

“Brad!” Nate barked. “Open your fucking eyes.”

_Shit_. He hadn’t realized that had been a standing order. Brad’s eyes snapped open and locked with Nate’s. When the fuck had Brad turned into Nate’s bitch?

Undoubtedly, the first night Brad had picked him up.

“You keep closing your eyes,” Nate snarled. “Are you trying to pretend it’s someone else fucking your ass?” He twisted Brad’s nipples, harder this time.

“No, sir,” Brad gasped, his breath forced from his lungs by the slide of Nate’s cock. “Fuck no.” He was desperate for Nate to understand Brad was right where he wanted to be and Nate was whom he wanted to be with. “I know who you are and I know it’s you fucking me.”

Nate braced his arms on either side of Brad’s head and leaned down to kiss him. “Who am I?” Nate whispered against his lips.

“Nate,” Brad whispered back, snaking his tongue out to taste Nate’s lips. “You’re my Nate.” He wrapped his legs around Nate’s waist to hold him close. Christ, he’d gotten possessive of Nate. This was bound to end with Brad’s heart being ripped from his chest.

“Say my name again,” Nate whispered, pounding quickly into Brad’s body again. “I wanna hear you say my name.”

“Nate,” Brad breathed, watching as Nate’s rhythm faltered and he started to come. “Nate … Nate … oh fuck, _Nate_.”

Brad wished he could free his hands from the cuffs. He wanted to grab hold of Nate, draw him down, and hold him close while he came. All he could do though, was watch. Nate was beautiful as he climaxed, face flushed, eyes shut, mouth open, wet and red. His entire frame shook and Brad could feel his cock twitching, deep in ass.

Nate finally opened his eyes and looked down at Brad, a beatific smile gracing his face. His chest was heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

Brad hissed as Nate withdrew, dealing with the condom handily. He ran his hands over Brad’s thighs, smiling down at him.

“How do you want to come?” Nate asked, still a little out of breath. “My mouth? My hand?”

Well, if Brad had a choice …

“That thing you did that one time …” he said hesitantly. “Your hand on my cock and your fingers …”

Brad had become privy to a host of whore’s tricks through the years. Most of them though, were extreme in nature and used on him because he had a particularly graphic itch he’d asked to have scratched. No one, not anyone ever, had tried to be creative in an effort just to make him happy.

Nate wrapped the fingers of one hand around Brad’s straining cock and slid two fingers of the other into his ass. He stroked Brad quickly, rubbing against his prostate firmly. Brad pressed his feet to the mattress and lifted his hips off the bed. It was reflexive; he couldn’t help himself. Nate’s hand was relentless, stroking Brad’s dick with a tight grip. The fingers in his ass sent shock wave after shock wave through his pelvis and up his spine. Nate stroking him was enough to edge him near to coming but his fingers in Brad’s ass were making him insane. It felt like so much more.

“Is that what you wanted?” Nate said, smiling at Brad. “Does that feel good?”

“Fuck, yes,” Brad replied, feeling himself start to come apart. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“That’s good,” Nate encouraged. “Just let it go. Come for me, Brad. Just let it go.”

Brad’s throat burned with the harshness of his shout as he came. He convulsed violently, his body folding up as his cock twitched in Nate’s hand, coursing strand after strand of his hot come over Nate’s fist and onto his own belly and thighs.

As Brad relaxed, he pulled against his cuffs. “Let me go, I want to touch you,” he said, his voice raw.

“Shhh shhh shhh,” Nate soothed, sliding off the bed and returning with a warm, wet cloth. He cleaned them both up but Brad was impatient.

Finally, Nate responded to Brad’s tugging. He unbuckled the cuffs and then Brad was free. He lunged upward and pinned Nate to the bed. Brad pressed himself against Nate’s body and kissed him. He licked into Nate’s mouth, over his teeth and against his tongue, until he heard Nate moan in response.

“Was it good?” Nate whispered. “Do you feel good?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Brad laughed, settling back onto the pillows, surprised at just how good he did feel.

“Good,” Nate said, running his hands over Brad’s skin. “I want you to feel good.”

Something in Nate’s tone caught Brad’s attention and he watched him closely. “Why?” he heard himself ask.

Nate looked surprised at Brad’s question. “Because you make _me_ feel good. From the night we met, you make sure I feel safe and happy. You look after me. No one’s done that since my mother died.”

~*~

Nate wasn’t in bed when Brad came out of the bathroom the next morning. He went to his closet and dressed in his fatigues. He reached the kitchen just as he finished the final precise crease and roll in his jacket sleeve. Brad smiled at Nate where he sat at the table, dressed in his sleep pants, eating a bowl of cereal. He looked so fucking young.

“You could’ve made some eggs,” Brad said. “Is that going to be enough for you?”

Nate was staring at him wide eyed, mouth opened slightly. It took him a moment to answer.

“I have a break between classes,” he said. “I usually get something more substantial at the Student Union.”

Brad took eggs and bread out of the refrigerator. He held them up for Nate to see. “Are you sure?”

Nate had stopped eating and was watching Brad intently, his expression inscrutable.

Brad put bread in the toaster and got out a pan for the eggs. He poured himself a glass of cranberry juice and turned to lean against the counter and return Nate’s gaze.

“What?” he finally asked when Nate ran his eyes over Brad’s body for about the fourth time.

“You are so fucking hot in uniform,” he finally breathed.

Brad grinned. “I’m glad you approve. You’re pretty fucking hot yourself.”

Damn, was Nate blushing?

“Thank you.” Nate dipped his head. “Would you …”

Brad was even more curious when Nate trailed off. “Would I what?”

“Someday,” Nate drew a breath as if gathering his courage. “Would you be willing to wear your uniform while you fuck me?”

Brad choked into his glass at Nate’s welcome, if unexpected, request. “Oh, you _do_ have a uniform kink, don’t you?”

“No,” Nate grinned sheepishly. “I have a kink for you.”

Well _that_ brought Brad up short.

“Yeah, if you really want me to,” Brad said seriously.

“With my face pressed up against a wall. My pants around my ankles.” Nate’s description was breathless and rushed. His expression was distant, as if he was picturing the fantasy.

Brad slid his eggs between two slices of toast and wrapped the whole thing in aluminum foil. He grabbed a small bottle of juice from the fridge and set it beside his sandwich. Brad went to the rack of keys beside the door and took down the spare Mustang key and handed it to Nate.

“House key is on the ring,” he said brusquely. “Garage door opener is on the visor.”

“Okay,” Nate said quietly, running his fingers over the large car key. “Thanks.”

Brad grabbed his breakfast and headed for the door. “When you get home tonight,” he said, pausing before he left. “Put a condom in the front pocket of your jeans and lube yourself good.”

Nate’s head shot up and he snagged Brad’s gaze. “Oh,” he said dazedly. “Okay.”

“Greet me when I get home leaning on the wall you want to be fucked against.”

Brad left without a backward glance, _knowing_ he was going to have Nate up against a wall when he got home tonight. He just had to make it through the day with a hard-on.

~*~

Brad loved his motorcycle but it made riding home with an erection very painful. He hadn’t been able to put the thought of fucking Nate against a wall out of his head the entire day. The closer he got to home, the worse his erection became.

He paused before entering the house to put his Utility Cover back on. Contrary to his usual nature, Brad made a lot of noise when he walked through the door. He figured Nate needed at least a minute or two to prepare. Brad moved slowly through the house, wondering where he was going to encounter Nate.

He made it all the way to the hall.

Brad stopped abruptly when he saw Nate, leaning casually against the wall. He had the sole of one foot propped behind him and his head tilted back. He watched Brad closely through heavy-lidded eyes. Nate’s expression said he was interested in Brad; he thought maybe Brad was worth some of his time but Brad was sure the fuck going to have to prove it.

He strode down the hallway until Nate was within reach. Brad wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and jerked him forward until Nate’s body was up against his own. He pressed his lips to Nate’s and shoved his tongue into his mouth and forced the kiss.

Nate didn’t hesitate, though. He met Brad’s tongue caress for caress. Brad could kiss Nate forever, but Nate had asked him for something. Brad was going to deliver.

Pulling back, Brad grabbed Nate’s shoulders roughly and spun him toward the wall. Taking care not to slam Nate’s battered torso around, Brad pressed him in using his own body. Nate cushioned his collision with the wall using his own hands but Brad’s body pressing in forced a low grunt from him. He slid his hands further up the wall and left them there, standing as if in supplication. Brad lifted the back of Nate’s shirt slightly and thrust his hips into Nate’s body, letting the front of his jacket scrape against Nate’s flesh as he moved.

He grabbed Nate’s hips and yanked them away from the wall. Brad slid his fingers into the front pockets of Nate’s jeans and came across the condom packet. He was greatly pleased with how well Nate followed instructions. It was also a clear indication that Nate wanted this; was wholly committed to it.

_Fuck_, but this kid was special.

Brad eased himself out of his pants and gave a few experimental strokes. He’d been so hard for so long he didn’t need any encouragement. Brad rolled the condom down his dick and took a steadying breath. It occurred to him Nate might want a little filthy talk, but he hadn’t spoken when Brad had found him; maybe _that_ was what he wanted.

Reaching around again, Brad unfastened Nate’s fly and jerked his jeans down over his hips and thighs and jammed them around his ankles. Nate had asked for that; he’d wanted his jeans around his ankles.

Standing up, Brad slid a hand between Nate’s ass cheeks and felt for his hole. Brad bit back a smile. Nate had lubed himself. Brad lined himself up and gave a hard shove.

“Nguh!” Nate cried out in reaction as Brad’s cock breached him roughly and abruptly. Brad listened as Nate groaned and breathed heavily against the wall. He didn’t protest, though. In fact, his hips pushed backward into Brad’s.

He fucked himself into Nate experimentally a few times. He watched Nate’s fingers dig into the wall and heard him groan loudly with each snap of Brad’s hips. Nothing could be construed as a protest.

Brad placed his right hand on the side of Nate’s head and carefully but firmly pressed his un-bruised cheek into the wall. With his left hand, he restrained Nate’s shoulder. Brad pressed his face to Nate’s temple and fucked him.

Their height and the angle meant Brad had to fuck up as well as in so he did it, hard and fast. His hips slapped against Nate’s ass, forcing him into the wall with each thrust. Nate’s body was hot and tight around Brad’s cock. It was amazing, the heated friction and drag of fucking Nate up against the wall.

Brad’s hips were tearing harsh cries from Nate’s throat. Each time he bottomed out in Nate’s ass, the hallway filled with a low, guttural cry. It became Brad’s focus to see what sounds he could pull from Nate with each slam of his hips. He angled straight up, going deep, and elicited a sharp cry. Brad angled forward and grazed Nate’s prostate and that earned him a low, rough shout.

His orgasm began to build in the base of his spine. Brad slid his hands along Nate’s arms. He linked his hands with Nate’s where they pressed against the wall and they squeezed each other’s fingers tightly.

Nate’s heat enveloped and receded from Brad’s cock with each piston of his hips. Brad felt his rhythm begin to falter as his climax built, rolling through his hips and sending jolts up his spine. It rolled over him violently, sending him shuddering against Nate’s body, pinning him to the wall.

When it was over, Brad pulled himself out and walked away. He went to his bedroom and disposed of the condom, wondering how Nate wanted to be finished off. He hadn’t specified that part. It didn’t seem right to go back and reach around and just stroke Nate off. Maybe he was taking care of himself in the hallway.

Brad wanted Nate to have his fantasy, he wanted it to end satisfactorily, but he wasn’t sure what Nate wanted. Indecision was unusual for Brad and his own hesitance made him feel like a pussy.

Brad stripped off his jacket and hung it up. Nate slowly walked into the room. Brad could see he was still hard. He’d tucked himself back into his jeans and Brad knew it had to be painful. Nate was hunched over, seeming to curl in on himself. He sat down carefully on the foot of the bed as if to watch Brad undress. Brad’s confusion grew, as Nate didn’t look upset, but expectant. He didn’t understand what it was Nate expected.

Walking over to stand in front of Nate, Brad watched him carefully. Observe and report. That’s what Brad did.

Nate’s expression was hungry. His eyes were luminous; his cheeks were still flushed. He leaned forward and pressed his face to Brad’s naked stomach. Nate lifted his hands as if to touch Brad, then thought better of it and let them fall into his lap.

Brad wrapped his arms around Nate to encourage the contact he seemed to want. Nate’s arms came around Brad and pulled him close, almost desperately.

“Stand up,” Brad whispered. “Lower your jeans a little.” He pulled back and retrieved the lube and the wipes from his bedside table.

Brad sat on the bed in the same spot Nate had vacated. He pulled Nate – jeans down around his hips now – to sit between his open thighs. Brad poured a small amount of lube into his hand and then took Nate’s painfully hard cock into his fist.

At the first touch of Brad’s hand, Nate released a strangled cry. His body convulsed and one foot came off the floor. Brad crossed his free arm over Nate’s chest and Nate gripped his forearm tightly with one hand. His other hand came up to wrap around the back of Brad’s head. Nate pressed his face into Brad’s neck and panted harshly against his skin.

As Brad stroked Nate’s cock, Nate’s body never relaxed. His hands stayed clenched around Brad and he breathed hotly into Brad’s throat.

Brad watched his hand stroke Nate’s dick. He started slow, stroking from base to tip, without sliding over the head just yet. Nate groaned against Brad’s neck. His foot would come off the floor whenever Brad tightened his grip slightly.

When he finally slid his hand over the head of Nate’s cock, Nate gasped against his throat. Brad felt him shudder, his entire body shivering, and vibrating. His grip on Brad grew stronger and his sounds more desperate.

Brad adjusted his grip, tightening two fingers around the head of Nate’s cock, squeezing and stroking. Nate cried out, his hand tightening on Brad’s arm. He folded up, convulsing hard.

With a final sob and a violent shudder, Nate came in Brad’s fist. It was hot and wet and messy. It went on for fucking ever. Brad held him steady as he rocked and shivered. When Nate finally relaxed against Brad’s chest, he cleaned them both with a wipe.

Brad wrapped his arms around Nate and held him close. Nate crossed his arms over Brad’s and leaned into him, just letting himself be held.

~*~

It was Wednesday night and Brad was cooking dinner in his bare feet. He wore ratty jeans and a tank top and was telling Nate about the day’s antics of Ray Person. Brad was aware he’d never talked about his teams to Nate before. Maybe the insanity of Ray wasn’t the best place to start but the things he’d done that particular day were too fucking funny not to share.

Nate, as had become his custom, was helping Brad cook. They had a comfortable routine established in so short a time. It was pleasant and relaxed.

Brad was filling two plates with food as he asked, “Do you need to study tonight or do you want to watch a DVD?”

Nate leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon Brad,” he said softly. “You know I need to go home tonight.”

“Do you need more clothes or something?” Brad asked, confused by Nate’s apparent tension.

“I have loved staying here,” Nate replied. “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me – more than I can tell you – but I have to get back to work tomorrow night.”

Brad’s head shot up at that and he pinned Nate with his gaze. Suddenly, he realized he’d better look away. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. Letting Nate see _anything_ he might be feeling wasn’t wise.

“Yeah, sure,” Brad said vaguely, tossing a pan into the sink with a little more force than he should have. “We’ll leave after dinner.”

“I don’t want to leave but I’m healing well,” Nate explained as Brad set their plates in front of their usual stools. “I need to make some money and I really need to check on my friends. They’re going to be worried about me, too, if I’m gone for too long.”

“Of course,” Brad agreed. “Right, you need to check on everyone and reassure them with your presence.” Brad would feel the same way if he’d taken a combat injury.

“I wish I could think of a way to thank you …” Nate started to say.

Brad _did not_ want to hear Nate’s platitudes. “I said we’d go after dinner; so eat.” he interrupted; aware he was being rude and temperamental but unable to stop.

Nate sat down reluctantly and picked at his plate. They didn’t speak. Brad didn’t know what to say to break the tense silence that stretched between them. All he knew was that he had seriously misjudged what had been going on between himself and Nate these last few days. What had he been thinking? Nate was a whore and Brad was just his client. It had been one long game of role-play.

Nate started to clean up after dinner but Brad couldn’t stand to linger now that he knew he was returning to his solitary life.

“Leave it,” Brad said, reaching for his wallet and keys and heading for his car. “Get your shit and let’s go.” It was now that Brad saw Nate’s neatly packed belongings sitting by the door.

When Brad slid behind the wheel of the Mustang, he released the trunk for Nate to stow his gear. When Nate climbed in beside him, Brad turned the stereo up to make conversation impossible.

When he pulled into the parking lot of Nate’s dorm, Brad released the trunk again and expected Nate to climb out and go without a word or a backward glance.

Nate had other ideas. He shut of the stereo with an abrupt motion and turned to look at Brad with sad eyes.

“You and I both knew this was how it had to be,” he said quietly, almost regretfully. “I’m too close to graduation to give it up now.”

Brad gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and stared straight ahead as he if couldn’t hear a word Nate was saying.

“When you get over being mad,” Nate said as he opened the car door. “Don’t let pride stop you from coming to find me.”

With that, Nate got out of the car, grabbed his stuff with a slam of the trunk and walked off into the night.

Brad pulled out of the parking lot with a sharp chirp of tires.

He mentally kicked himself in the ass his entire drive home. Nate had been clear about being so close to getting his degree and not allowing anything to get in his way now. Brad _knew_ Nate was independent and self-sufficient and probably as stubborn as Brad himself was.

That was when Brad remembered Kit’s warning to him that night at the motel:

_“Beatin’ the shit out of him ain’t the only way to hurt him.” _

_“Meaning?”_

_“He’s a good guy. He ain’t gonna be out here forever, not like the rest of us. He’s gonna be something someday. Don’t break him before he can get outta here.”_

_“What happens if him being out here breaks me?” _

_“He’ll follow you out if you let it happen on his terms.” _

Kit had warned him, but Brad hadn’t understood until just now.

When he got home, Brad dragged himself slowly into the house and listened.

Gone was the expectant silence that had accompanied Nate’s presence.

The empty silence had returned.

Brad tried to distract himself from the silence by answering email and calling his mother. It worked to a degree, but eventually the hour grew late enough that he couldn’t avoid having to go to bed. He had to work the next day and he needed to sleep.

It was easier said than done, though, in a bed that was now too large and too empty. He should have changed his sheets. Who would have thought that after so short a time, everything in his room would smell of Nate?

 


	7. He Knew It Was A Bad Idea But He Couldn't Seem to Stop Himself

Brad was miserable on Thursday. He’d slept like shit and he was in no mood to listen to his teams’ smack talk and bullshit. He put Poke in charge and sent them out to train on the obstacle course, claiming his paperwork for the Lieutenant was past due.

He sat at the small desk in the back of the hangar they’d given him for admin work. Brad really did have after-action reports to file and requisitions to complete but nothing was past due. He just wanted the solitude. He couldn’t handle Ray’s chatter today.

Brad sensed another presence almost immediately and he looked up to see Sgt. Rudy Reyes standing in the doorway.

“Finding peace and tranquility in the details of paperwork?” Rudy asked with all sincerity.

Brad didn’t answer. He never had to.

Rudy sat down in a chair across from Brad. He didn’t stop typing. Rudy would say whatever it was he’d come to say, regardless. Brad watched him extract something from the pocket of his fatigues and begin fiddling with it. It looked like he was filing down a firing pin, but with Rudy, who knew?

“I can tell you’ve had a rough couple weeks, my brother,” Rudy finally said. “Unlike most of us, you don’t fall apart and show emotion when your soul is troubled. You turn inward. You become more perfect; more precise.”

Brad was less than thrilled to hear that. It meant his struggle to hide his inner turmoil and vulnerability indicated to the world that he _had_ inner turmoil and vulnerability.

“We notice this because we’re your brothers,” Rudy continued into the silence. “We love and admire the Iceman, but we know it’s a mask.”

Mask or not, Brad wasn’t removing it.

“Ray admits he pushed you too far, speculating that you were finally falling for a woman.” Rudy paused to blow lightly on the object he was working on. “But he was happy to think you might have found someone who realized how lucky she was to have met you. Someone special enough that you would let down your guard long enough to let her in.”

Brad stopped typing but he didn’t look up from the laptop.

“Ray thinks it’s a woman. Doc doesn’t. None of us care which it is.”

Brad stopped breathing.

“Whoever it is, we’re here for you, my man. There’s no need to pull away from us. We got your six.”

Brad resumed breathing.

“We’re goin’ out this Saturday night. You’re gonna come with us. You don’t have to spill your guts, ‘cause we know you won’t anyway. Just come be yourself in the company of your brothers, your fellow warriors, and let your soul be at peace.”

Without another word or any response from Brad, Rudy left as silently as he’d arrived.

Fruity fucking Rudy. Christ, but Brad loved him.

~*~

Brad got to the lake early so he was able to launch his ski right away. He tied it up to the small dock then drove down the shoreline and reconned a place he wanted to park and set up his base of operations. He walked back to the launch ramp, untied the ski and moved it to his base.

The sun was barely up when Brad was in his shorty wetsuit and life vest, racing across the glass-surfaced lake. The ski hummed and vibrated beneath him; the engine and the wind raced past, drowning out all other sounds. The sun was warm, the spray of the water was cold and Brad was alone.

_This_ was peace for his troubled soul.

Except he couldn’t help wishing Nate was with him, riding his other ski.

Pushing the thought aside, Brad came to a wide portion of lake. It allowed him to see well in all directions so he started to put the ski through its paces. Speed was great but there was a certain thrill to throttling out of an extremely tight turn. As traffic on the lake picked up and the ski boats started making passes, Brad got in some wake jumping.

Several hours later he was tired, relaxed, peaceful, and hungry. Beaching the ski by his truck, Brad saw that a small group had gathered with their skis several yards away. It was a mixed group and they didn’t seem overly stupid in the way they handled their equipment so Brad didn’t think anymore about them.

At least not until one of the guys and a girl approached him and asked if he’d modified his ski.

Of course he had. Brad modified everything to maximize its speed and power. The friendly and curious couple understood what he’d done, though, and was suitably impressed.

As Brad closed the casing on the ski’s engine, the man thanked him with a handshake.

“Landon,” he introduced himself.

“Brad,” he returned and waved as Landon went back to his friends.

“I’m Kim, by the way,” the woman said, extending her hand for Brad to shake. He was surprised at the firmness of her grip.

Brad turned back and tinkered on his ski for a moment before he realized Kim was lingering. When he pulled out his small tool kit to do some minor work on the impeller, she helped out by handing tools and reaching into spaces too small for Brad’s larger hand.

Their conversation started out about jet skis and four-stroke engines. Brad was pleasantly surprised to find how much Kim knew. As they worked, he couldn’t help but notice Kim’s body in her bikini. She had large, shapely breasts, the sway of which indicated they were natural. She had a narrow waist and a round ass and hips. She was firm and athletic, her muscles rippling under her skin as she worked alongside Brad.

“The lab where I work is filled with really smart men but they have no social skills,” Kim remarked at one point.

“When you say ‘lab’, I take it you mean medical and not meth,” Brad commented.

Kim chuckled. “Yeah. My degree is in biology. I deal with test tubes, beakers and swabs all day long.”

“That’s a mean way to refer to your co-workers,” Brad quipped.

Kim laughed immediately. “I was being nice. When I’m angry I call them a bunch of specimen slides.”

It was Brad’s turn to laugh.

When the work was done, Kim returned to her friends.  Brad ate his sandwich and pounded down several bottles of water, then he pulled up his wetsuit and grabbed his life vest. Kim was a few yards away sliding on a shorty of her own.

“Going back out?” she called across to him.

“Yep,” he answered succinctly.

“Mind some company?” she asked, tugging on her zipper pull. “My ski can’t keep up with your special modifications but I promise I won’t slow you down too much.”

Kim rocked a wet suit like she rocked her bikini and Brad’s dick was asking for an introduction. He only hoped she didn’t turn into a simpering, helpless sort of female once she got on the water.

Brad smiled as he put on his life vest. “Let’s go.”

To both Brad’s relief and pleasure, Kim was adept with her jet ski on the water. He held back on the throttle so her less powerful ski could keep up, but once they started to play with small stunts and tricks and jumping wakes, she held her own.

Brad challenged her to a particularly tricky turn and when she over-throttled out of it, the rear of her ski hydroplaned and Kim was launched off into the water. She came up sputtering and laughing. As Brad nudged her ski back in her direction, she was laughing so hard all she could do was lie on her back and float. Fuck, but she was even a good sport. Brad couldn’t help but laugh at her delight. She had a wide smile, straight white teeth and her laugh was low and throaty. Brad could imagine the sounds she’d make while he fucked her. They’d be deep in her throat, drawn out and rough. She wouldn’t make those annoying, high-pitched yipping sounds like you find on a bad porn-track.

“Had enough?” he asked her as she finally swam to her ski.

“Fuck no!” Kim declared, easily climbing up the back of her ski and settling on the seat. “I have to do that right at least once.”

Brad told her what she’d done wrong and on her second attempt Kim nailed the trick.

They trailed ski boats and jumped their wakes on the ride into shore.

Brad checked his watch and realized he needed to get going if he was going to save himself the grief of being late meeting his teams for the drunk-fest they had planned. Kim offered to help him get his ski on the trailer and, when Brad accepted, she rode his ski to the ramp and he met her there with the truck and trailer.

She throttled up the trailer just as smooth as silk and Brad was ready to go in no time.

Kim climbed into the cab next to him so he could drop her back with her friends. She leaned forward and grabbed the pen attached to the pad of paper hanging from his dash.

“This is my cell number,” she said as she wrote out the digits. “Call me if you want to get a drink or something tonight.”

“I have to meet up with some guys from work tonight,” Brad said, almost relieved he had that escape already in place. “If I don’t show again they’ll make my life hell next week.”

“Call me when you’re done, then,” Kim said casually as she started to climb out of the truck. “If I’m awake, I’ll answer and maybe we can continue the party at my place.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but closed the truck door and gave Brad a brief wave before turning back to rejoin her friends.

He glanced down at her cell number as he drove home. Brad had no damn good reason _not_ to call Kim. She was smart, educated, funny, they had several things in common, her job probably paid more than his, and she had a body that was the stuff of wet dreams. She was also Jewish and that would thrill his mother to no end.

It was just that … the thought of seeing her again - of maybe getting to fuck her – didn’t make his heart race or his palms sweat like the idea of driving by a certain street corner did.

The scene played out in Brad’s head just like a movie; “Hi Mom, this is Kim.  She’s smart, educated, funny, beautiful _and_ Jewish.”  He could see it now; she’d be sending out the wedding invitations before Brad had gotten his dick wet.  There was a time that thought might have brought a smile to his face.  Now, not only did he not give a shit, he was still thinking of a certain street corner.

~*~

It was a sports bar so it wasn’t quite as pretentious as some of the places they’d made Brad go. At least they wouldn’t have to shout over really bad cover tunes; just over the occasional cheering sports fans.

The laughter of Recon Marines dominated the cavernous room. His teams were playing a game of storytelling one-upsmanship. The stories they were telling were all about Brad.

“No, no,” Sgt. Patrick – Pappy - said, shaking his head. “I got one better. CIA needed eyes on a compound and targets marked. Me, Brad, Chaffin and Garza were packing gear in the hangar, waiting on transport.”

The afore mentioned Chaffin and Garza suddenly burst into knowing laughter. There were a few sounds of remembrance from those that had heard the story told before.

“A total boot Lieutenant, barely out of diapers and off his mama’s titty, comes charging in shouting at us for our CO’s name, threatening to write us up for violating curfew and hinting that he might have just uncovered a theft ring, since we were packing up military property.”

“The fuck?” someone said.

“So Iceman stands up, and I mean he _stands up_; full height and parade rest. He looks _down _at the kid, who is maybe five-seven, and says – as calm as you please – ‘Sgt. Patrick, in accordance with the conflicting order we’ve just been issued, stow our necessary and properly assigned gear back into the lockers. I will contact Lt. Wynn and advise him that a junior Lieutenant has countermanded his orders and denied the CIA the intel they requested.’ Brad’s obeying the order and he’s not insubordinate but the little piss ant just _knows_ he’s been insulted.”

Ray chuckled. “As usual, Brad’s technically perfect recitation is simultaneously obedient and mocking and his target can’t do jack-shit about it.”

“It gets better,” Pappy continued. “The boot LT starts telling Brad he knows he’s full of shit ‘cause no team can be deployed without their CO.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Lilly said in disbelief. “How long had he been on base?”

“Less than a week,” Pappy answered, knowing that explained all. “So now Brad says to him, ‘Roger that, Lieutenant. I had not been made aware by my CO that the Corps no longer considered Recon Marines to be independent operators.’ The little fucker’s eyes got huge and his mouth falls open and he starts to look around the hangar. Finally, he says, ‘Recon?’.”

“Did Brad whip out his Ka-bar?” Poke asked.

“Nah,” Pappy continued. “He just says, ‘Aye, sir. Second Platoon, Bravo Company.’ You could see it in the little shit’s eyes when the fucking dots connected. He looks up at Brad and finally realizes how far up he’s looking. He swallows loud and says, ‘And you’re Sergeant …’, ‘Colbert.’ Brad says, like it ain’t plastered right there on the right side of his chest.”

“That little officer must have shit himself,” Ray said.

“He may have. He nods at Brad as says, ‘Colbert. Right.’ and before Brad can say anything else the Lieutenant starts to back away from him. He starts saying shit like, ‘Very well … my mistake … carry on …’ and when he gets to the hangar door he runs through it like his ass had been lit on fire.”

“So his Gunny _had_ briefed him,” Ray stated the obvious. “And he still walked around with his head up his ass. Someday I wanna be a fly on the wall of that briefing; ‘You’ll know him when you see him – he’s a big, tall, Viking looking motherfucker. Just stay out of his way and let him do his job and he’ll let you live’.”

They all erupted into raucous laughter, and even Brad had to smile.

“Nobody delivers an insult like the Iceman,” Rudy said from beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“You ignorant, congenitally obtuse, bovine-copulating, sexually inept, backwoods skulking, knuckle-dragging motherfuckers make it easy,” Brad said to a round of loud encouragement and cheers.

The waitress came around and Brad checked his watch. It was still early enough that he ordered another beer. Brad realized the group had gone silent so he glanced up. His men were all watching him.

Brad cleared his throat. “I met someone today. I have an invitation to continue the party when I’ve had enough of you ugly bastards.”

“Fucking Iceman,” chorused around the group. “Lucky asshole.”

“It’s the height,” this from Ray. “They all wanna see if his dick is extra long, too.”

“So if you could be getting laid right now,” Kocher said. “What are you still doing here with us sorry fuckers?”

From beside him Rudy said, “It’s not who he really wants to be with.”

“Okay, I got this,” Poke said. “Dog, if you got somebody makes you feel good about yourself and you hate it when you’re not with them, do what you gotta do to work that shit out. I spent weeks makin’ up reasons why me and my wife would never work out. She finally kicked some sense into my sorry ass, and lucky for me she did.”

Brad thought about what Poke was telling him but the fact remained, he and his wife had both wanted to be with each other. Brad was faced with the fact that each time he’d found someone he thought he could be with, long term, they didn’t want to be with him.

“Don’t borrow trouble, Brad,” Pappy said. “Gather accurate intel _then_ form your strategy.”

The waitress returned with their drinks and the topic of conversation changed.

~*~

Brad was almost home when he decided to make the phone call. He dug his cell and the crumpled paper out of his jeans pocket. Kim answered on the third ring.

“This is Brad Colbert; from the lake today,” he said quickly.

“Brad!” Kim said warmly, her voice rich and warm like butterscotch. “I am very glad you called.”

“I extracted myself from my obligatory meet up.”

“I have a fridge full of beer if you’d like to come over.” Her voice held the promise of more than just beer.

“If it’s not too late for you.” Brad wondered what the fuck he was doing.

“Is this your cell number?” Kim asked. “I’ll text you directions.”

Brad parked in front of Kim’s house twenty minutes later. It was a small but tidy bungalow. She greeted him at the door before he could even knock. She wore what Brad would loosely call a nightgown.

If he had any doubt as to why Kim had invited him here, it was gone now.

Brad _should_ like her. Hell, he _did_ like her.  He liked her enough to fuck her anyway, and it would probably be fantastic. Brad was comfortable and relaxed sitting and talking with Kim. The more he got to know her, the more he realized his mom and his sisters would like her.  He could just see it; she’d be one of the family; sharing dirty jokes and embarrassing stories about Brad with his sisters, and swapping khishka and knish recipes with his Mom.

But, they’d like Nate, too, he realized.

It was Kim who initiated everything between them. Brad liked assertive partners but he also preferred to be a little more outwardly enthusiastic himself. Still, when Kim leaned in and kissed him, nipped at his lower lip ran her tongue over his top teeth, Brad’s dick sat up and took notice. Kim took the lead, unaware; she couldn’t know that Brad wasn’t demonstrating his usual level of enthusiasm.

Kim crawled on top of Brad and straddled his lap. She ground down onto his cock, making it fill and grow even faster. He slid his hands around her hips to grasp her round ass and pull her in closer. Brad thrust upward into Kim’s body and she groaned appreciatively into his mouth.

He pushed down the straps of her gown and her large breasts spilled free for his hands and his mouth. Brad cupped them, squeezing gently. He rolled her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. Kim let her eyes close and her head fall back, her dark hair cascading down her back. She wrapped her hands around Brad’s in encouragement.

Kim leaned forward eagerly when Brad slid his hands to her back and tugged her forward gently. When her breasts swayed in his face, he wrapped his lips around one of her firm nipples. Kim groaned and wove her fingers through his hair. Brad felt her hair slide around him and caught her delicate scent on the soft strands.

“Do you want to continue this here?” Kim whispered into his ear. “Or go to bed?”

Brad would be perfectly content with taking his cock out of his jeans, pushing aside her panties, and sliding in. He knew women preferred to be comfortable in their own beds, so there really was no decision to make.

“Bed,” Brad said, licking into Kim’s mouth. “Let’s do this right.” It was a line he knew she’d like hearing.

Standing up from his lap, Kim slid her gown over her hips. She wore only a miniscule pair of lace panties. Kim reached for Brad’s hand and led him to her bedroom.

She had a sweet tasting pussy. Her scent was warm and musky and she was already wet. Brad licked in and around all her folds, flicked her clit with his tongue and slid two fingers up inside of her. Kim was responsive. She spread her legs wide for him and her back arched off the bed when he licked her clit and fucked her with his fingers.

Brad gripped her thighs and pressed them into the mattress as Kim’s orgasm hit her. Her hands gripped his hair and she cried out loudly, her body shuddering around him. Brad kept his mouth pressed to her relentlessly, working her clit until the shivering passed.

He dug the condom out of his jeans pocket and slid it onto his cock. Brad crawled up between Kim’s legs and lay down on top of her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him down for a kiss.

Brad reached between their bodies and guided himself to her slick entrance. He eased the head of his cock into her and felt how hot and tight Kim was. It felt good. Brad opened his eyes and looked down into her brown ones. He wondered why the eyes looking back at him couldn’t be green.

He teased Kim with just the head of his dick. Soon, she was tugging and pulling at Brad, encouraging him to fuck her faster and harder. When he finally slid himself all the way inside of her, Kim growled low and deep in her throat, just like he’d known she would.

Brad propped himself on his elbows and picked up his pace. He slammed himself in and out of her, hearing the sloppy wet sounds of her pussy as it accepted and released his cock with each of his thrusts.

He fucked Kim so hard he knew he was shifting the bed. Her strident cries drowned out the metallic squeaking of her bed. Brad was sweating and grunting with his efforts. She felt good. Kim really did have a nice pussy. On a particularly brutal thrust, hot pain seared through Brad’s shoulders and he threw back his head and hissed.

“Sorry,” Kim said breathlessly from beneath him. “Sorry about that.”

Brad wondered if her nails had drawn blood.

Kim’s hands shifted down to grasp Brad’s ass and he felt her sharp nails dig in once again. She pulled his hips into her own body roughly, guiding him and demanding he fuck her hard.

Brad’s mind chose that moment to wander. It selected a memory from the night he’d found Nate again after those three long days of worry. The broken way Nate had told Brad his real name; the desperation in them both as they’d fucked long and hard.

He pushed up onto his hands and fucked Kim with the intention of coming. It didn’t take him long. Brad felt good; he always did when he came. It was a warm and pleasant sensation in his spine. It was just that he’d come longer and harder each time he’d been with Nate.

Brad slipped into the bathroom and disposed of the condom, then peed. When he got back to the bedroom, Kim had two bottles of cold water waiting. Brad drank deeply, and then let her drape herself over him for the requisite post-coital cuddle.

As he lay there in the dark gauging how long it would be before he could make his escape, Brad could feel the nail gouges in his back and shoulders burning. He’d have to remember to keep his back covered for the next several days or he’d never hear the end of it from his guys.

Brad must have dozed because the next thing he knew, it was very early morning. He slipped from the bed and quietly dressed.

Kim awoke briefly and they exchanged the usual platitudes and false promises of a one-night stand. Brad left feeling relaxed from good sex, but his chest felt strangely empty.

~*~

Mid-Sunday morning, Brad’s cell phone rang. He almost didn’t check it, convinced it was Kim and knowing he was going to take the pussy way out and just dodge her calls until she gave up. When he read the display, Brad’s heart leapt into his throat.

_Nathaniel_

Brad hadn’t programmed Nate into his phone. Nate must have done it himself at some point when Brad was otherwise occupied.

For a very brief moment, Brad considered hitting ‘ignore’ but it occurred to him that it was a good sign that Nate was calling. Maybe he didn’t hold Brad’s having acted like an asshole against him.

“Hey,” Brad said simply when he answered. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” Nate returned. “I missed you last night.”

Brad was taken aback. The way he’d left things with Nate, he hadn’t thought their Saturday night arrangement still applied.

“I knew you wouldn’t show up,” Nate rushed on. “But it didn’t stop me from wanting you to.”

Brad’s brain locked onto Nate’s last statement like a missile locking onto its target. Pleasure at hearing those words made something tighten in his chest.

“I actually had to hang out with my teams.” Brad’s tone affected a casualness he didn’t feel. “They’d become a bunch of kids acting out to get daddy’s attention.”

“I know how they feel,” Nate growled. “I like having daddy’s attention, too.”

Well, fuck if that didn’t make Brad’s cock hard.

“You certainly have it now,” Brad countered. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nate assured him. “Everything’s fine. It’s just …”

Nate’s sigh was frustrated and anxious.

“Just what?” Brad encouraged.

“I have an exam on Tuesday, which I knew about, but now I have an unexpected paper due on Friday.” Brad could hear Nate swallow nervously. “I don’t know what I was thinking … I just … I need to take tonight off to study and work on my paper but I also miss you.”

Brad knew he was so fucked. The tightness in his chest became a cold knot in his stomach. Nate only wanted a quiet, comfortable place to study. Sex with Brad was probably just a diversion for him. He didn’t care. It meant Nate would be off the street for tonight. He’d be where Brad could take care of him and keep an eye on him.

And, there was the sex.

“Do you remember how to get here?” Brad asked without preamble.

“Yes,” Nate replied, his excitement barely contained.

“Then pack up your stuff and get over here,” Brad said. “Will that rust bucket you call a car make it this far?”

“Well if it doesn’t, you’ll be the one I call,” Nate said with a laugh.

~*~

Brad decided to change the oil in the Mustang while he waited for Nate. It would keep his brain and his hands occupied and he’d be too filthy just to throw Nate down on the kitchen floor as soon as he arrived – although, that idea had merit.

He had just upended the first quart of oil when Nate pulled into the driveway beside him. Brad stood and watched him climb out of his car. He knew Nate had his own agenda, but he couldn’t help the wide smile on his face. Nate’s features were brilliant with his own smile as he reached out to wrap his arms around Brad’s torso.

“I’m covered in motor oil,” Brad warned, lifting his dirty hands up high enough to avoid brushing them against Nate.

“I don’t care,” Nate said into Brad’s neck. “Mmmm. Even covered in sweat and oil, you smell wonderful.”

Brad could tell Nate smelled fresh and clean and he couldn’t help lowering his arms to pull him closer, even as he carefully kept his hands away from Nate’s clean shirt.

“I missed you.” Brad barely heard Nate whisper against his throat.

He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his nose in the hair at Nate’s temple. Something knotted in his gut loosened. “I missed you, too,” he whispered.

Nate pulled back and looked up into Brad’s face, eyes smiling as much as his lips. He pressed his mouth to Brad’s in a chaste kiss.

“Let me finish here,” Brad said, turning to add another quart of oil to the Mustang. “And we’ll get some lunch.”

“I’ll take my stuff inside,” Nate declared and went to the trunk of his car. He carried his now familiar duffel, book bag, and backpack through the garage and into the house.

It felt to Brad as though Nate had come _home_.

Brad was just about done adding oil to the Mustang when Nate came out of the house.

“When did you program your number into my phone?” Brad asked, watching Nate over his shoulder.

“One time you were in the shower.” Nate grinned.

“Nathaniel?” Brad asked, dubiously.

“You’re in my phone as ‘Bradley’.” Nate’s grin was even wider. “They’re like pet names.”

Brad snorted. “God help us. When’s your car due for an oil change?” he asked suddenly.

Nate remained uncharacteristically silent.

“You’re too smart not to know to change your oil regularly and when it’s due for it,” Brad said, standing and wiping his hands on a rag. “Which means it’s due and you don’t want to tell me.”

“Because you’re going to try to change it,” Nate declared.

“So?”

“I have a place that I usually take it,” Nate said impatiently. “I just need to get through this coming week.”

“Pop the hood, Nate,” Brad said, gesturing toward the little car.

Nate set his jaw stubbornly and buried his hands in his jeans pockets. He didn’t move.

“_Nathaniel_,” Brad growled. “Pop … the … hood.”

Nate stomped around to the driver’s door, actually slapping his feet on the concrete like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Brad thought it was just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Stubborn, self-reliant, independent Nate pissed off at having to accept a little help.

Brad pulled the dipstick, wiped it clean, reinserted it, and examined the oil when he withdrew it again. The oil was black and filled with debris.

“You need your oil changed,” Brad announced.

“I know, which I will have done next weekend,” Nate argued.

Brad closed the hood on the Mustang. “You’re going to take your cute little butt down to the auto parts store and buy yourself an oil filter while I drain the old oil.” He tossed Nate the key to the Mustang and told him where the store was.

“Brad, no.” Nate started to toss the keys back.

“_Nathaniel_,” Brad barked, reaching for his wrench and the dirty oil pan.

Nate swore under his breath and literally flounced into the seat of the Mustang like a five year old told to sit down and behave. Brad revised his earlier opinion. _That_ was about the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

~*~

Brad had cleaned up and they’d eaten lunch at the kitchen table. Now, there was a packet of Skittles sitting open between them and Nate was telling stories about the events of the previous few days.

“You thought I looked bad,” Nate said, shaking his head as he told about visiting Mickey in the hospital. “He couldn’t see out of one of his eyes for several days. He still can’t walk very far without help because of his ribs.”

“He’ll live, though,” Brad pointed out.

“Yes!” Nate happily agreed. “For that I’m grateful.”

“How’s Kit?” Brad asked, tossing back a handful of Skittles.

“He sends his thanks for looking after me,” Nate replied. “And, he wants to be the one to get beat up next time so he can come have you cook for him.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Brad huffed a laugh. “That’s not a skill I share with just anyone.”

Nate dipped his head almost shyly. “Then I’m especially thankful you shared it with me.”

Brad bit back a grin and changed the subject. “Don’t you have a lot of studying to do?”

Nate groaned. “Don’t remind me. It’s that paper that’s giving me all the trouble.”

Brad listened while Nate talked about the unprepared students who had angered Professor Griego into punishing the entire class with a writing assignment. Nate was particularly resentful because he’d been prepared for the lecture, thanks to Brad’s quiet house.

“Let me know if I can help,” Brad offered.

“Do you think you can quiz me later on?” Nate asked. “Help me see where I need to focus my cramming for Tuesday’s exam?”

“I think I can handle that,” Brad agreed.

“Did you do anything fun yesterday or did you rebuild your motorcycle again?” Nate taunted.

“I went jet skiing.” Brad started to elaborate but then he remembered both his wistful longing for Nate and his ill-fated hookup with Kim and decided discretion was the better part of valor.

Nate’s expression was outraged. “You go jet skiing _yesterday_ and _today_ you change the oil in your car? Gee thanks!”

“Did I get a phone call saying you’d be here today?” Brad asked mockingly. “No. Did you call and say, ‘Hey Brad, let’s go jet skiing Sunday.’? No.”

“Hey, Brad,” Nate said with exaggerated cheer. “Let’s do something fun together next weekend.”

“Okay, Nate,” Brad said in the same tone. He threw a Skittle at Nate, hitting him in the chest. He knew he shouldn’t be quite so pleased that Nate wanted to make future plans with him that didn’t involve money and sex. “Now you need to study or write a paper or something.”

Brad disappeared into the depths of the house to change his sheets and finish his laundry and take a shower.

Nate was more than ready for a break by the time Brad reappeared to fix dinner. As they moved around each other companionably, Brad decided to ask the question that had been nagging him since Nate had left Wednesday night.

“What’s going on with those recruiters who were sniffing around you?” He tried to sound more casual than he felt. Graduation and employment meant Nate off the streets. Permanently.

“They’re both still interested and the offers are comparable.” Nate seemed subdued in his answer. “I just have to make a decision and accept one of the offers.”

“Are you leaning toward one over the other?” Brad asked, hoping for some hint as to how easy it might be to persuade Nate to stick around after graduation.

His question was met with silence and Brad’s stomach knotted. Right.

“How much time do you still have to decide?” Brad changed tactics.

“About a month,” Nate answered that quickly enough.

“Well,” Brad said tentatively. “Just give me some warning if you decide to pack up and move back home.”

Nate shrugged. “I don’t really think of it as home, anymore.”

Brad nodded. He could work with that. He had a month to show Nate that this could be home from now on. Brad would show him he could be safe and secure here, but still live his own life. He didn’t have to have the same feelings Brad did right now. If Nate stuck around long enough, maybe they’d grow. There’d be no chance if he took the other job and moved away.

“Let’s get you through the coming week and worry about it some more then,” Brad offered.

“Okay,” Nate agreed, hooking his fingers in Brad’s belt loops and leaning his forehead against Brad’s back as he stood over the stove.

Brad took one of Nate’s hands and brought it forward, crossing it over his chest and holding on.

~*~

Quizzing Nate was revealing. The areas he knew, he knew very well. The areas where he was weak, it was easy to trick and stump him.

Brad flipped around the pad on which he’d been writing. Nate read the notes he’d jotted down.

“You’re weakest in China’s current impact on global economies,” Brad summarized. “Their impact ten years ago, you know front and back. You should also focus on the black-markets of Indo-China. You keep viewing Korea from a military standpoint instead of an economic one so your answers are not quite right.”

Nate was watching Brad closely, staring hard. “You know this shit almost as well as I do.”

“Surprised?” Brad asked, once again feeling defensive that someone might equate ‘Marine’ with ‘stupid’.

“Only with the subject,” Nate said quickly. “Not with your ability to comprehend it so well.”

“I read,” Brad said dryly.

“Obviously,” Nate fired back. “Can we just go to bed now?”

Nate must be tired. He was whining.

“Somebody’s cranky,” Brad teased. “I think we’d better.”

In the bedroom, Brad stripped down to his bare skin. He didn’t bother with the annoying boxers. Brad was already half hard at the thought of climbing between the clean sheets with an equally naked Nate and he didn’t feel the need to pretend they were going to do anything but fuck before they went to sleep.

Brad turned and caught Nate watching him intently. It was a different look than Nate’s usual lust-filled one. As soon as Brad’s eyes met his, Nate’s dropped.

Watching Nate closely, Brad turned down the bed and slid between the sheets. When Nate looked up again, his gaze smoldered and it was accompanied by an impish grin.

Nate crawled into bed and the heat from Nate’s body covered Brad’s. He felt Nate’s arms slide around him as his head came to rest on Brad’s shoulder.

“I missed this,” Nate sighed. “My silly bed seemed a hundred times smaller after I left here.”

Right. Nate meant he missed sleeping in a huge, comfortable bed; not that he’d missed sleeping with Brad. Still, Brad couldn’t help running his hands over the smooth skin of Nate’s back.

Brad turned to intercept Nate’s mouth as he kissed his way up Brad’s neck. The kiss started slow; Brad drew Nate’s upper lip in between his own. He sucked Nate’s lower lip in and grazed his teeth over it lightly. Nate mimicked Brad’s actions, rubbing his mouth over Brad’s. Changing the angle slightly, Brad flicked his tongue over Nate’s upper lip. This time when Brad drew Nate’s lower lip into his mouth, he dragged his tongue along the length.

Nate lost his patience first and pressed his mouth fully to Brad’s, pushing his tongue past Brad’s lips. Brad groaned at the warm, wet feel of Nate’s tongue against his own. He lifted his head slightly to press their mouths more tightly together. Nate shifted for leverage and pushed Brad back down, swiping into his mouth and breathing heavily. Brad stroked his tongue over Nate’s; he licked under Nate’s tongue and all around it. He slid his hand down over Nate’s ass and squeezed.

Brad hooked one of Nate’s legs with one of his own, lifted his hips, shifted his weight, and reversed their positions. Nate gasped, and then gave a low, throaty laugh. Brad knelt between Nate’s thighs and felt his legs wrap around his hips. He lowered himself over Nate’s body and took his mouth in a slow, wet kiss.

Nate skimmed his hands up Brad’s arms and started to run them down his shoulders and back. Instead he shifted and skimmed his palms over Brad’s tattoo, then moved lower to grasp his ass. Brad teased the firm point of his tongue over the shell of Nate’s ear and smiled at the answering shudder he received. He bit sharply at Nate’s earlobe and heard him gasp in response. Nate arched upward and tugged at Brad’s hips at the same time, grinding their cocks together and making Brad groan against the sweat-slick skin of Nate’s neck.

Brad kissed his way down Nate’s throat, placing his open mouth against the heated flesh and pounding pulse. He dragged the flat of his tongue down Nate’s chest until he reached one small, firm, pink nipple.

Nate’s hands shot up to Brad’s head, running softly over her hair. He hissed sharply, then relaxed and let loose a soft moan. Brad scraped his teeth along Nate’s nipple and he arched upward in response.

Running his hands over Nate’s ribs, his flanks and his thighs, Brad shifted and took Nate’s other nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard and heard Nate groan and swear softly.

He’d thought to suck Nate’s cock, or maybe have Nate suck his. Brad felt his patience slipping, though. He rose up and reached for the bedside table, withdrawing lube and a condom. He set them on the bed beside them and returned to one of Nate’s swollen nipples. He slid a hand between their bodies and past Nate’s cock and ball sac. He gave a single light caress to Nate’s asshole and thought idly that it seemed loose and relaxed already.

Brad knelt up again so he could see Nate’s tight pink opening as he slid his finger into the heat of his body. Instead of the pale, puckered hole, Brad saw Nate’s ass was loose and red and slightly swollen. Experimentally, Brad slid a finger into the hole and felt the slight smoothness of residual lube.

He felt gut punched. Brad clenched both his eyes and his jaw in reaction to the undeniable fact that Nate had fucked the night before.

Brad sucked in a shuddering breath and gripped Nate’s inner thighs in an effort to stem the tide of pain that rolled over him. His mind’s eye fed him images of faceless strangers pressing Nate down into the mattress of that dingy motel room and rutting mindlessly into him. He saw others spread Nate out on his back and fuck into him, watching with satisfaction as he cried out at the invasion. Worst of all was the image of one of them stroking Nate’s cock, getting to see the beauty infusing his features as he came.

Nate knew something was wrong. Brad knew his shift in mood was too abrupt and his withdraw too complete for it to go unnoticed. His formerly raging erection as flagging between his legs and bile rose in his throat.

Brad knew his reaction was unreasonable. He _knew_ how Nate made money and Brad had paid others for the same services more times than he could count. Fuck! It was how he’d _met_ Nate.

“Brad, what’s wrong?” Nate asked, anxiety coloring his voice.

Brad could only shake his head in the negative. These fucking mixed signals Nate kept giving him; saying he missed Brad, initiating contact between them, hinting that he _liked_ Brad. Then Nate turns around and _fucks for money_ when clearly it was no longer necessary.

Isn’t that what a whore does, though? Convince a John he’s special? Pretend that particular trick is the only one? Cultivate a regular by letting him feel as though the whore _likes_ him?

Nate sat up and took Brad’s face between his hands. “Brad, are you okay? What’s wrong? Talk to me?”

He didn’t want to hear the fear and worry in Nate’s voice. He didn’t want to be the cause of it but _fuck_! How had Brad fallen into this trap? How had he let himself?

“How many did you fuck last night?” Brad hadn’t meant to ask that. He had no right to know and he didn’t really want to, either.

Nate was on his knees in front of Brad now; he could feel his heat and his anger and his distress.

“What the fuck did you ask that for?” Nate snapped. “You _know_ what I do; you fucking met me doing it. What’s it got to do with this? With us?” Nate gestured between their kneeling, tense bodies.

“I was stupid enough to think there was something a little more going on here,” Brad whispered harshly.

“You fucking hypocrite!” Nate shouted in Brad’s face.

Brad surprised himself by reaching out and gripping Nate’s upper arm hard enough he knew it would bruise. “How am I a fucking hypocrite?”

Nate grabbed Brad’s shoulders in a surprisingly strong grip and forced him to twist at the waist, exposing his back to Nate’s eyes. “You knew I was fucking to survive. You fucked for fun and didn’t say a word to me about it.”

Brad didn’t even have to look over his shoulder to know what Nate was referring to. The rows of angry red scratch marks had been visible on his back when he’d looked in the mirror that morning before he’d showered.

Nate forcibly shoved Brad away and scrambled off the bed. He reached for his briefs and slid them on.

“It didn’t mean anything,” Brad said hollowly, knowing how fucking lame he sounded even as the words left his mouth.

“Yeah, I can believe that,” Nate said dryly as he started to put his clothes on. “And obviously I don’t either.”

Brad was reaching for his own briefs when Nate let that line drop. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, eyes narrowed, as he pulled his skivvies over his hips.

Nate was tugging his shirt over his head. “Kit warned me. They all warned me. Johns don’t care about whores. They’ll pretend to, to get it for free, but they never, ever forget you’re a _whore_.”

Brad’s blood chilled in his veins as Nate spit out that final word as an epithet. He had his jeans on over his hips but he froze in the act of fastening them as he listened to Nate’s tirade continue.

“You know what?” Nate stopped in the act of putting on his shoes. “You’re no better than I am,” he sneered, pointing an angry finger in Brad’s direction. “We both get paid to let men order us around; to tell us what to do. You get ordered to put yourself in danger and kill people. I just get ordered to fuck.”

Brad’s anger drained away and left behind only confusion. When the fuck had he ever made Nate feel like some dirty, less than human whore? Had Nate really missed all the signs that Brad thought he was beautiful and brilliant?

“Whoring is what you do,” Brad said tentatively. “It’s not who you are.”

“Damn right!” Nate said emphatically, but Brad’s words seemed to have taken some of the fight out of him.

“Whores are who I fuck,” Brad continued. “They’re not who I …” He couldn’t even finish the thought in his own head, let alone say it out loud.

“Yeah, well there it is,” Nate said quietly as he gathered up his bag.

Brad was missing something and he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He and Nate were talking _at_ each other and he had the feeling they were both missing something significant.

“Why did you call me today, Nate?” Brad asked, stopping Nate in his tracks.

“I told you,” Nate snapped. “I missed you.”

“Yeah,” Brad said pensively. “And I missed you, too. But _what_ about me did you miss? A big comfortable bed and three square meals a day?”

Nate clutched his bag to himself and turned to face Brad fully, green eyes flashing a dangerous fire. “No! Fuck no! I don’t need things. I have money. I work hard for my money. I take care of myself. I always have. I don’t need your money or your house or your fast car. I didn’t need you to work on my car and I don’t need you to cook for me.”

“I’m beginning to get that,” Brad said, a light finally coming on for him. “What is it you think I missed about you?”

“Apparently, a tight hole,” Nate said with a quiet fury, making a show of trying to peer at Brad’s back.

“If all I needed was a tight hole then why the entire time I was with her did I wish she was you?” Brad knew that entire sentence was fucked up and convoluted and he wished he could take it back.

“She?” Nate’s eyes grew wide with shock. “Oh, fuck.”

Brad saw the need to flee in Nate’s eyes before he turned away and got to the doorway first. Nate flinched when Brad reached for him, so he threw up his hands, palms out in surrender. He didn’t move out of the doorway, though. Nate would have to go through him.

Good luck with that.

“Don’t deflect the issue, Nate,” Brad said warningly. “If you’re not here for a meal ticket and I want you here for more than a convenient fuck, then what exactly are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” Nate said simply. “I thought I did. But I guess I don’t.”

“What did you think?” Brad pressed.

Nate didn’t answer for a very long time. His eyes flashed and his jaw flexed as he clenched it. “I thought you wanted someone in your life who would like you for yourself; who would accept who you are and what you’ve chosen to do with your life.”

It was uncanny how clearly Nate could see him, even if he didn’t realize it himself.

“I thought you wanted to be that person,” Brad said, stepping off the cliff.

“I did. I do.” Nate’s grip on his bag was white-knuckled.

“I want to know you’re okay, not lying bloody and broken in a dark alley,” Brad said. “I want you safe and happy but you left me to go back to the street.”

“I didn’t leave _you_,” Nate said heatedly. “I’ve gotten this far on my own; I’m not going let someone start taking care of me now. You had to go to work and leave me here alone the day after I got beat up.”

Brad started to say that it wasn’t the same, but he didn’t. He realized it was the same. It was the same to Nate. He nodded. Finally understanding.

“I understand it,” Brad said finally. “But I don’t like it.”

“Well I don’t understand,” Nate said plaintively. “Can you explain it to me?”

Brad held his hands up placating. “First, let’s take a few steps back, calm down and try to relax a little.”

He reached for Nate’s bag and, very reluctantly, Nate let it go. Brad tried to tug Nate into his arms but he refused steadfastly.

“Am I just another John to you?” Brad asked when Nate refused to unbend.

“No,” Nate’s voice was raw with emotion. “I have never told a trick my real name. I don’t show tricks where I live, I don’t go home with them, and I don’t give them my cell phone number.

“I don’t bring _anyone_ home.” Brad matched Nate’s emphatic tone and willed him to put the disparate pieces together. “Let alone leave them in my house, tell them how to reach me at my work and give them a key to my car. And I haven’t thought of you as a whore in quite some time.” Brad watched Nate closely and waited for his words to sink in. He saw the moment they did.

“I never bothered to ask if you have a girlfriend or something,” Nate said, still standing rigidly in front of Brad but showing signs of wavering. “A lot of men who come to me are married, you know.”

“There’s no one,” Brad assured him. “And last night meant nothing except to prove it was you I really wanted to be with.”

Nate nodded and after a final brief hesitation, let Brad draw him into his arms.

Finally, Brad’s gut unclenched. He felt Nate breathe heavy against his neck and he suspected it might have been a sob. His hands shook as he ran them over Nate’s tense back and felt a tremor course through Nate’s frame.

“Let’s go to bed,” Brad said into Nate’s ear. “We’ll sleep. We need to sleep.”

Nate nodded his assent and let Brad slowly remove his clothing. He slid passively into bed and even let himself be pulled back into Brad’s arms.

Brad knew he wasn’t going to sleep much. He had several revelations he needed to consider. He had a strategy to lay out.

He knew he had to get Nate off the street.

 


	8. He Was Worried For Nothing

Brad awoke before the alarm sounded so he shut it off and rolled over to watch Nate sleep.

He sighed heavily. What a complicated, fucked up mess they’d managed to make out of something with such potential. They were both proud, stubborn men making it a certainty they were going to make things much more difficult for each other than they had to be.

Brad realized there was more going on between them than either had first thought, but he still wondered if it was enough to keep Nate from moving away after he graduated.

He realized he had his work cut out for him, but Brad never ran from a challenge. Knowing he couldn’t solve the problem in the next few minutes, he rolled over and kissed Nate awake.

Soft green eyes fluttered open slowly. Brad smiled down at him and one corner of Nate’s mouth lifted in response.

“Good morning,” Brad whispered, searching Nate’s face for any sign of anger lingering from the night before.

“Morning,” Nate replied, seeming happy to find himself in Brad’s bed.

“Did you manage to get any sleep?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good. Take the Mustang this morning.” When Nate started to protest, Brad gave him a quelling look. “It’s more reliable than your clunker. Remember, I want to know you’re safe. Once you graduate and start getting paid what that brain of yours is worth, you can buy yourself a better car.”

“Okay, okay!” There was no heat in Nate’s reply.

“When I get home tonight, we’ll quiz you for your exam tomorrow and then you should work on your paper.” Brad wanted him to understand that his education was a priority and that Nate had Brad’s support.

“Fine,” Nate’s tone was exasperated but his expression seemed cautiously pleased with Brad’s concern.

“Good boy.” Brad smiled and patted Nate’s hip sharply before climbing out of bed.

~*~

Brad wandered quietly out to the kitchen, not wanting to disrupt Nate’s concentration more than necessary. When he saw Nate though, he had his head in his hands, no longer rapidly typing his essay into his laptop.

“You okay?” Brad asked, confused. Nate had been fine the last time he’d been in here. They’d had dinner; Brad had quizzed him a final time on the material for tomorrow’s exam, and Nate had started writing his paper.

“Yeah,” Nate said without looking up.

Brad watched him for a few moments. Something wasn’t right.

“You look like you have a headache,” he ventured.

“The pain’s a little further south,” Nate sighed, collapsing backward in his chair.

“I’m going to assume you mean that figuratively.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Nate to decide to talk.

“Professor Griego, my Geo Polysci instructor,” Nate said darkly. “He has his own agenda and he grades accordingly.”

“Meaning?” Brad prompted.

“He grades lower if your work doesn’t agree with the agenda he’s pushing.”

Brad pulled out the chair across from Nate and sat down, folding his arms on the table. “The expression on your face tells me you not only frequently disagree with him, but what you want to write in your paper is going to get you a lower score.”

“He’s an extremist,” Nate explained, sitting forward and warming to his topic. “He’s so pro-America that he won’t tolerate any criticism of how the war was, or is, being prosecuted. He blames the insurgency in Iraq on the illiterate, fanatical, ungrateful populace and refuses to accept that there was no plan for stabilization once you guys had secured the capital.”

Brad took a moment to absorb that. It meant that Nate’s opinions were his own and hadn’t been spoon fed to him by his professor. He’d formed his own conclusion based on his own intelligence and core values and was refusing to allow himself to be brainwashed.

Damn good thing he hadn’t joined the Corps.

“Can you back up your opinion?” Brad asked, eager to help Nate negotiate this quagmire. “If pressed, can you defend your views?”

“Absolutely.” Nate started shuffling papers and turning pages in books as he talked. He flipped his laptop around for Brad to read as he produced item after item that backed his position.

“Then write the analysis you want to write,” Brad advised, impressed with Nate’s logic. “This won’t be the last time someone will try to bully you for not agreeing with them. Are you going to spend your life caving in or are you going to stand up for what you believe in?”

Nate stared at him for an interminable time.

Brad grew uncomfortable. He glanced down at the table. “Then again, what do I know? My job is to follow orders without question, even if it means my life.”

Nate sat bolt upright in his chair, wide eyes regarding Brad as if he’d just discovered the God Particle.

“Yes, you do,” Nate said emphatically. “And I owe it to you and your men to be honest in my analysis and to stand up for you, as well as myself.”

Brad watched Nate settle himself and begin to type again. Gratified he seemed to have been of help, he stood up quietly made his shopping list for the next day, and then slid out of the room, unnoticed by Nate.

A little more than an hour later, Brad checked on Nate and found him scanning web pages, a book open in front of him.

“Are you going to come to bed or do you need to work a little longer?” Brad asked softly.

Nate frowned up at Brad in confusion then checked the time. “Shit. No, I got a lot done in the last hour. With the exam out of the way tomorrow I should have plenty of time this week to finish.”

Brad waited for Nate’s laptop to shut down so he could turn out all the lights.

“Go on ahead,” Nate said with a smile. “I know how to turn off lights and lock doors.”

Brad felt the corner of his mouth lift. He would have thought Nate’s familiarity with Brad’s home would make him uncomfortable; make him feel smothered and trapped. Instead, he liked the idea. It was as pleasant as the expectant silence that accompanied Nate himself inside Brad’s home.

He was brushing his teeth when Nate came into the bathroom and did the same. He used the toothbrush from his previous stay. It was a good thing Brad hadn’t been able to throw it out.

Their eyes caught and held in the reflection of the mirror and Brad was suddenly very aware of how much he wanted Nate. Things had gone wrong the night before and it had been best for them to sleep instead of fuck. But tonight, Brad wanted inside of Nate so badly he ached with it.

He drew Nate into his arms and kissed him, slowly backing him out of the bathroom and toward the bed. They had both taken to going around the house barefoot so Brad didn’t have to work very hard to get them both naked. He stripped off his own tank top and immediately Nate ran his hands over Brad’s chest.

Brad yanked Nate’s shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then reached for the fly of his jeans. He shoved the denim down over Nate’s hips and watched him step out of them, skivvies and all, and kick them aside.

“Kneel on the bed for me,” Brad said, voice rough with desire as he shucked his own jeans.

Nate climbed gracefully onto the bed and sat back on his heels, knees wide apart and hands resting on his thighs. He was the perfect picture of submission. Brad’s cock communicated its approval by growing to full hardness immediately.

Submissive Nate was as gorgeous as bossy Nate and Brad just wanted to look at him, to watch him.

“Touch yourself for me,” he said softly, “not to come; just show me what feels good.”

One of Nate’s hands reached down and began to fondle and stroke his growing erection. Brad had to admit Nate had a beautiful cock; long, thick, vein-filled with a bulbous head just wider than the shaft. Brad knew from experience how well that cock hit some fantastic fucking places when Nate shoved it into him.

Nate’s hand on his cock worked slowly, tantalizingly. He slid his other hand up his chest and moved it between his own nipples; twisting and pulling and treating them to a sensuous torture. Occasionally, Nate’s hand ceased stroking to slide down further to grasp his ball sac and tug it fiercely. Nate’s face showed nothing but pleasure and Brad didn’t think he’d ever seen anything hotter.

Brad reached for Nate, hooking him behind the neck and urging him down onto all fours so his face was pressed to Brad’s belly. Brad gripped his straining cock and dragged the tip of it along Nate’s cheek and jaw. Nate took the hint and turned his head slightly to place kisses along it. He dragged his tongue along the shaft and teased it, dragging a low moan out of Brad’s throat. Reaching into the bedside table, Brad grabbed up what he knew he’d need. Impatiently, he opened the foil of a flavored condom and rolled it down his hard length. Nate wasted no time in wrapping his lips around Brad’s swollen dick.

“You have the most beautiful mouth,” Brad said softly, his fingertips grazing Nate’s cheek. “Almost like it’s meant to wrap around my cock.” He gave a few experimental thrusts and Nate took them eagerly. “You suck my dick like you enjoy it. Do you enjoy it?”

Nate’s answer was a hum around Brad’s cock.

“I thought so,” he replied with a chuckle. “Keep touching yourself. I like to watch you.”

One of Nate’s hands moved to his chest to tug and twist his nipples. He moaned softly around Brad’s cock. Nate really seemed to enjoy nipple play. Brad would have to remember that.

“Turn around for me,” Brad whispered and Nate released his cock with a wet pop as he quickly turned and resumed kneeling on the bed. Brad really fucking liked him like this.

Reaching for the bottle of lube, Brad squeezed a little on his finger. He teased Nate’s puckered opening with the cold lube before plunging his finger inside.

Nate gasped and pushed back against Brad, silently asking for more. Brad opened his palm and used his lubed finger to fuck Nate’s ass vigorously. He loved to watch his digit disappear, only to reappear moments later glistening with lube.

Brad was tempted to add a second finger but then he decided his tongue was a better choice. He stepped between Nate’s thighs, spread him wide with both hands and licked deeply into him. Brad realized he’d grown quite fond of Nate’s sounds during sex; his mewls, cries, moans, whimpers and near screams of enjoyment. Brad teased Nate’s hole with the firm tip of his tongue then laid broad strokes against the hot skin. He spread Nate open, widening him with his thumbs and tasted up inside of him. He felt Nate shudder.

Brad reached for the lube again. He slicked his cock liberally. He grasped his dick at the base and lined himself up; pressing forward until he’d eased past all the barriers of Nate’s body.

Brad reached beneath Nate and wrapped his arms around his chest. He gave a fierce tug and Nate responded by rising up. Brad grasped his face roughly and turned it for a deep, soulful kiss. He kissed his way down Nate’s neck, licking wetly and nipping hard. He reached the tendon that joined Nate’s neck and shoulder and bit down hard. Nate growled in response and Brad sucked the same patch of skin into his mouth. Nate hissed. Brad pulled back and admired the mark he’d made on Nate’s flesh.

“Do you trust me?” Brad asked against Nate’s wet lips, hoping he did.

“Yes,” came the whispered reply. Brad was awash in relief.

“Just follow my instructions and if I start to hurt you, don’t hesitate to tell me.” Brad pulled back just far enough to be able to see Nate’s eyes. He needed Nate to understand and to trust.

Brad smoothed his hands down Nate’s biceps. When he reached the crook of each elbow, he took a firm grip. “Lean all the way forward, as far as you can,” Brad instructed as he himself leaned back in preparation for taking Nate’s weight. “I’ll do the rest.”

Nate slowly bent at the waist; Brad kept their hips pressed together tightly. As Nate’s upper body leaned further away, Brad slid his hands down his forearms until he was grabbing Nate’s wrists. Brad was now in complete control. Nate had no leverage with his arms pressed upward behind his own back. He was bent at the waist completely and Brad’s dick was still buried up his ass. Brad shifted his arms so Nate could clasp his wrists in comfort, and then he began to move.

He pulled back slowly, watching his cock withdraw until just the head was still pressed inside Nate’s tight muscle ring. At the same time he snapped his hips forward, Brad pulled Nate’s body backward by his arms. The result was a powerful thrust that buried his erection to the hilt inside of Nate. Brad’s balls slapped hard against Nate’s ass and Nate cried out loudly from his helpless position.

“Does that feel good?” Brad asked in a voice, gravelly to his own ears. “Do you like my cock that deep in your ass?”

“Yes, do that again,” Nate groaned and wriggled his ass against Brad’s hips, the only thing he was able to do in his extreme position.

Brad pulled back and slammed himself forward again at the same time he pulled Nate’s arms backward. Nate’s wordless cry was filled with passion and pleasure so Brad didn’t stop this time. He worked to find a rhythm that would please them both.

That rhythm was fast and hard and merciless. With each forward thrust of his hips, Brad tugged Nate backward to impale him further on his hard cock. With each smooth slide of his dick inside of Nate, all the way to the hilt, Nate released a deep, guttural cry. Soon, each time their bodies met, Nate would keen or whimper. Brad began to vary his angle to see what different cries he could force from Nate’s lips.

Brad watched Nate’s body as he fucked himself in and out of the hot, welcoming hole. The position strained Nate’s shoulders while it rendered him helpless. He could do nothing but take Brad’s cock deep into his ass over and over. He arms were flexed and tense; his shoulders strained against the position Brad held him in; the muscles of his ass and thighs trembled with the strain, sending tremors through both of them, and the bed on which they fucked. Still, each sound that came from Nate’s lips was one of pleasure and deep desire.

Brad felt great satisfaction each time he shoved his entire cock inside of Nate. He needed Nate to feel him in his very core. No matter who paid for the privilege of fucking Nate, it should be Brad he thought about and Brad he came home to. He felt as though he could brand himself inside of Nate’s body and claim him.

One particularly vigorous ram of Brad’s hips brought a sharp cry from Nate, followed by a stream of pleading words, “Jesus, Brad, fuck, I’m gonna come!”

Nate’s desperation was nearly too much for Brad. He stopped his movements and began to chant soft and soothing sounds to Nate, “Not yet, Nate, just hang on. Breathe deep and relax; don’t come for me yet. I’m going to ease you down, just lay flat on the bed.”

Nate eased his chest down onto the bed, aided by Brad’s grip on his arms. Brad slowly released the strain on Nate’s shoulders, hearing the sharp gasp as tortured muscles protested their return to normal position. Nate stretched his arms over his head and sucked a breath in through his teeth before he turned his torso to look back at Brad.

“My ass is going to burn for days, after that.” His smile was lewd and pleased.

Brad tried not to appear smug. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. I’ll be thinking about you, you can be assured,” Nate confessed, blissfully.

That was exactly what Brad wanted.

Brad eased his still fully hard cock from between Nate’s ass cheeks and knelt over his body. He chose a spot over Nate’s ribs and bit down. He rolled the flesh between his teeth before pulling back to see the mark he left on Nate’s skin.

“If you roll over I’ll make you come now,” Brad said, easing back to give Nate room to shift.

Nate eagerly rolled onto his back, carefully adjusting his legs so that Brad ended up between his thighs. He lifted his arms above his head and Brad’s breath caught. They might have changed positions but Nate was still willingly submitting to Brad.

Lowering himself between Nate’s widespread thighs, Brad slid his arms beneath him and held him close for a kiss. It was a hot kiss; slow and languid but still possessive. Brad pressed his chest to Nate’s and held them together, smoothing his tongue along and around Nate’s. They licked at one another for long minutes, breathing heavy. Brad felt Nate slowly start to grind their hard dicks together.

For a moment, Brad forgot that they were supposed to be fucking. He lost himself in Nate’s mouth and forgot he’d promised to make him come. Brad pulled back slowly, reluctantly.

Shifting slightly, he lowered his head and nipped at one of Nate’s nipples. Brad moved to the other nipple and laved it with his tongue before sucking on it gently. He selected a spot just above the nipple, and opened his mouth over it. Brad sucked hard on the flesh, drawing it into his mouth and feeling the heat rise. Releasing it, Brad pulled back to look at the nearly purple mark now decorating Nate’s chest.

Let a John see _that_ while he fucked Nate.

He reached behind Nate’s knees and pushed them high, folding him in half and opening him wide for Brad’s invading cock. Nate opened himself eagerly, letting his legs fall wide in invitation. Brad knelt up and positioned himself against Nate’s well-used opening and pressed inward. Nate’s body accepted him readily and eagerly and he sank in deep.

Brad reached between their bodies and took hold of Nate’s straining cock. He stroked gently at first, catching and holding Nate’s eyes. He wanted to watch Nate’s face as he did this. In time with the ever-increasing speed of his fist, Brad began to stroke the inside of Nate’s body using only his hard dick. He moved his hand and hips in time with one another and watched as ecstasy overtook Nate.

He came hard beneath Brad; hot spurts of come firing out the end of his dick and landing wetly on Nate’s chest and belly. Brad stroked him until he gasped at the sensitivity. Releasing Nate’s spent cock, Brad grasped him behind the knees and lifted them high once again. He gave himself unfettered access as he fucked into Nate.

Brad came as hard as Nate had; his come shooting into the reservoir tip of the condom and making his entire body clench and convulse. When they had calmed their breathing, Brad rose to dispose of the condom.

He wet a washcloth with warm water and took it with him back to the bed. Sitting next to Nate, he cleaned him gently, wiping away all of the come and sweat. Brad admired the red and purple marks he’d placed on Nate’s pale skin. He didn’t do that often. This was different and he felt a certain satisfaction.

Brad looked up and found Nate watching him closely, his own expression thoughtful. Once again, he seemed to be trying to solve a puzzle involving Brad. Nate didn’t seem to realize how close he was to a solution.

Brad disposed of the washcloth and when he came back to the bed, he eased Nate beneath the covers before joining him. Nate wrapped himself tightly around Brad, resting his head on Brad’s shoulder so each warm breath ghosted over Brad’s neck.

Brad slept better that night than he had since Nate had left the week before.

~*~

Brad was in his den, Fox News streaming while he answered email, leaving Nate to finish typing his paper. They damn near had an evening routine and Brad was growing comfortable with it. He didn’t want to think about Nate leaving again to go back to his street corner. That would most likely be tomorrow.

As if conjured, Nate appeared in the doorway. Brad looked up and smiled.

“Is there a Kinko’s close by?” Nate asked softly.

“Yeah,” Brad admitted. “But why?”

“I’m finished writing. I need to print out my paper.”

Brad pointedly looked at the perfectly good high-end desktop color printer next to him.

Nate looked awkward, as if he knew what Brad’s reaction would be but still couldn’t bring himself to simply ask to use the printer.

“I need you to go over the paper with a red pen. I didn’t want to impose too much,” Nate confessed.

Brad reached into a drawer and withdrew a thumb drive, setting it on the corner of the desk for Nate to retrieve.

“Why would you think I’m anywhere near qualified to red pen a paper _you_ wrote?” Brad asked disbelievingly.

Nate snorted as he picked up the thumb drive. “I’ve heard you correctly construct the most complex sentences using a vocabulary some grad students wish they had. I don’t need you to read for content but you’re more than capable of reading for spelling, grammar and punctuation.”

Brad shrugged, both pleased and embarrassed by Nate’s compliments. “It’s your grade.”

Nate’s twenty-page paper was a thing of beauty. It was well-researched, well thought out, well organized and every assertion was backed up with a reference or citation. Nate’s vocabulary challenged Brad’s own. He made very few corrections and just a few minor suggestions that Nate made quickly and easily.

Brad watched Nate stand over his book bag holding the paper, now bound in a report cover and accompanied by a CD, and looking at it contemplatively.

“What’s wrong? Forget to include something?” Brad asked.

“No,” Nate said hesitantly. “I’m proud of this and I stand by it.”

“But?”

“If I hand it in, it’s going to create a shit storm and I’m just making sure I’m ready for that.”

“And are you?”

“I think I have to be. Going along with what Professor Griego wants just because he tells me to, when I know he’s dead wrong … it doesn’t feel right.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Brad wanted to help Nate work his way through this but he was also legitimately curious about what might come next.

“He could give me an ‘F’,” Nate sounded desolate.

“And what would that mean for your overall grade?” He knew this would be at the heart of Nate’s worry.

“Not all that much, but it doesn’t deserve an ‘F’.”

“I agree.” And Brad did. “What can you do about that?”

“Appeal it.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“Go to war with Professor Griego and take the chance he’ll fail me in the course for spite.” Nate’s tone and expression indicated he expected this kind of behavior from his instructor; for all that he should be above that kind of small and petty act.

“Which would be very bad this close to graduating,” Brad concluded the obvious.

“Which I can also appeal.”

“Is it worth it?” Brad asked, knowing Nate’s answer already but realizing they needed to follow the thought process through to its conclusion.

“It’s what’s right. If he does grade me unfairly low, I won’t be the first and if I don’t stand up to him, I won’t be the last.”

“Okay,” Brad said.

“Okay,” Nate echoed and slid the paper into his bag with a sense of finality.

~*~

The teams were gathered around Brad in the hangar, discussing the upcoming weekend. Brad was listening with half an ear, even though he was supposed to be participating. His mind was on Nate. He was supposed to get his paper back today with his grade. Nate was hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

Around him, the men were planning a day of rock climbing in their usual park. They assumed Brad would be joining them, as he usually did. Brad wasn’t sure he wanted to. He wanted to spend that time with Nate. He knew Nate could climb, Brad just wasn’t sure he was ready for the guys to meet him. Surprisingly, it wasn’t because he was afraid of what the guys would think of Nate, but what Nate would think about the men Brad considered his brothers. Would Nate understand their culture or would he be offended by it?

“Yo, Iceman.” Poke’s voice brought Brad back to the present. “You bringin’ anybody or comin’ stag, as usual?”

Their outings usually included civilian friends, siblings, buddies, wives and girlfriends. They got a headcount and everyone contributed appropriately to the food and drink fund.

Brad was aware that everyone was waiting for his answer. They _knew_ something significant was going on in his personal life but they didn’t know what. They suspected he was dating a woman but had heard rumors of a male friend. Brad glanced at their expectant faces and realized they wanted him to open up. They wanted him to share what was going on in his life.

Fuck it.

“I’m bringing a friend,” he finally said. If Nate didn’t want to go, he’d only be out a few bucks.

“Climbing or not?” Rudy asked.

“He climbs, but I don’t know what gear he may or may not have. If he needs anything I’ll let you know.”

And just like that, they all had the answer to the gender question. Brad could tell that Ray was dying to ask if it was a friendship or a romance but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Very rare, for Ray. He imagined they were all going to be patient and wait for Sunday to execute their recon missions to answer that very question.

“Roger that,” Rudy said. “Just let me know.”

The headcount was established and they all kicked in their cash for Garza and Jacks to buy the food.

As Brad walked to his bike, he found he was looking forward to the outing. They hadn’t been climbing in awhile due to weather. He was surprised that he didn’t dread introducing Nate to his men. He _wanted_ them to get along. He hoped they did.

Nate wasn’t home when Brad arrived. There was no sign that Nate had been there at all after class. His book bag and computer were nowhere to be found and it didn’t look like anyone had eaten in the kitchen since breakfast.

Brad took out his cell phone and scrolled to Nate’s number but didn’t place the call. Nate had said specifically, just that morning, that he’d see Brad that night and he’d have the grade to his paper. That meant he hadn’t gone to work.

Did Brad want to make this call because he was concerned or because he was jealous and possessive? Nate was a grown man, more than capable of taking care of himself. Brad tracking him down, just because he wasn’t where Brad expected him to be, smacked of possessiveness.

He put his phone down. If Nate needed help, he knew he could call Brad. Didn’t he?

Legitimately, Brad could call to find out if Nate would be home for dinner. He had to know how much to make.

Nate knew Brad would cook dinner and if he weren’t going to be here, he’d call to say so, right?

Brad changed clothes and started to cook for two. He was going to operate on the belief that Nate would be here in time to eat or he would call with a valid reason why he wouldn’t.

Dinner was almost finished when Nate arrived.

Brad was so relieved it was difficult to breath but he let nothing show on his face.

Nate’s expression was dark and his shoulders sagged. He let his bags fall heavily to the floor. He moved slowly as he walked to the barstool he always sat on while Brad cooked.

He wanted to go draw Nate into his arms and tease him until he smiled. Brad wasn’t sure they had the kind of relationship where he was free to provide comfort after what appeared to have been a very rough day.

“Can I do anything for you?” Brad asked, coming to stand across the counter from Nate.

Nate shrugged and he looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.

Brad stepped around the counter and held his arms open to Nate, who turned on the stool and wrapped his own arms around Brad’s waist. He was gratified when he heard Nate sigh deeply and felt him relax into Brad’s body.

“He gave me an ‘F’ and then held it up in front of the class and berated me,” Nate said against Brad’s chest.

“Oh shit,” Brad breathed, not surprised at his own urge to injure the asshole on Nate’s behalf.

“I didn’t tolerate it, though. I argued with him. I did it calmly and respectfully and cited my evidence but he just shouted me down.”

“What a dick,” Brad growled angrily. “That’s way out of line. I have to wonder if he’s not so insecure he couldn’t admit your opposing opinion had any merit. Is it possible he’s threatened by you?”

“I don’t care at this point,” Nate replied tiredly. “I filed my appeal with the department head, Dr. Patterson.”

“So what’s next?” Brad asked.

“He has ten days to review my complaint and respond with a dismissal or a ruling in either direction. We may both be required to meet and speak with him.”

“So you’ve done all you can do for now?”

“Yeah, but it was a rough day. I feel drained. I’ve hardly eaten. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Those are things we can deal with.” Brad pulled back slightly and cupped Nate’s face in his hands. He kissed him lightly, gently, feeling very glad that Nate had come home and turned to Brad for comfort and support.

“What’s for dinner?” Nate said against Brad’s lips, smiling slightly.

He fed Nate generously and plied him with beer. By the end of the meal, Nate was relaxing visibly and beginning to smile a little wider.

“So,” Brad said, trying to sound more casual than he felt. “My teams are getting together this Sunday for some rock climbing. Afterwards, we bar-b-que and drink and make a game out of insulting one another’s ethnicity and sexual prowess.”

“Oh, okay,” Nate said agreeably. “I just won’t come by until Monday after class then. Or even the following Sunday if you’d prefer.”

Okay, not the reaction Brad was looking for. He looked at Nate and noticed he was working very hard at not looking at Brad. His shoulders were tense again.

“Actually, I told them I was bringing you with me.” Brad let that settle in.

Nate’s head snapped up. “You did?”

“You said you climb, right?” Brad verified, silently delightedly at how excited Nate seemed by the invitation.

“Yeah, but not for awhile and I don’t have all the right gear anymore, either.” Nate seemed to deflate.

“We can pick up what you need or Rudy can scrounge something for you,” Brad assured him, wanting Nate’s eagerness to return. “But it would mean you coming here after work on Saturday night so we could get a fairly early start Sunday morning.”

Nate seemed to consider this until the corners of his mouth turned down and he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

They determined that Nate needed climbing shoes, Rudy had harnesses to spare and Brad had enough ropes to hog tie a small village. Nate would skip work the next night to shop for shoes.

“What have you told them about …me?” Nate asked diffidently. “Who do they think I am?”

“Nothing, other than I’m bringing you along. How much or how little to tell them is entirely up to you.” Brad had a moment’s trepidation that Nate was concerned about how he might have categorized their relationship, rather than whether he’d already outed Nate as a prostitute. “The person I’m bringing to go climbing. They’re going to dig for information so it’s up to you what to share or what not to share.”

“But who do they think I am to you?”

“They have no idea. They’ll think whatever it is you decide to tell them.” As Brad worked to reassure Nate, he wondered who the fuck was going to reassure him.

He also found himself wondering just how Nate was going to answer all of these questions when the time came.

~*~

Brad and Nate were among the first to arrive at the climb site but everyone followed quickly behind. It was chaos as the group grew. He knew the wives already so he introduced Nate around. Kocher brought a friend who climbed with them regularly. Others showed up with new girlfriends, some of whom were actually going to climb, others who would join the non-climbing wives. There were assorted siblings and long time friends Brad had met before and everyone greeted Nate warmly.

Everyone harnessed up and hooked up their chalk bags, hammers, pitons and carabineers. Ray gathered them at the base of the wall.

“Okay, what’s today’s wager?” he asked loudly.

“I like cash,” Stafford said. “A buck for every minute you finish behind the winner.”

“The winner being whoever finishes first, right after Brad; who is not eligible for the wager anymore,” Ray announced.

“You’re all a bunch of chicken-shit-pussy-losers who just can’t keep up. That’s not my fault,” Brad said with a smile.

“It’s those fuckin’ arms and legs of yours, Dog,” Espera said. “You’ve got a reach like a Gibbon.”

“I can beat him to the top,” a confident voice broke in and Brad was surprised to find it belonged to Nate.

Brad’s fellow Marines were enamored with Nate’s challenge. They were impressed with his confidence, if a little dubious about his skill. What they really liked was that Brad’s own friend was throwing down the gauntlet.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ray shouted. “Hold your fuckin’ horses. We don’t know how well he can climb. It could be a sucker bet.”

“Timed boulder climb,” Pappy suggested.

The crowd turned to look at Brad and Nate.

Brad looked down at Nate and said, “You started this, time to put up or shut up.”

Nate just grinned at him. “Show me the boulder.”

Everyone gathered around the huge rock they used for these types of challenges. Ray continued as referee.

“Okay, one at a time, starting from a crouch. Make your way around the boulder, direction doesn’t matter. The fastest one back to starting is the winner.”

“Iceman should go first so Nate can see what got himself into,” Poke said.

“Step up, Brad,” Ray announced. “You’re oscar-mike.”

Brad selected his handholds and knelt at the base of the boulder. When Ray called time, Brad leaped up, leveraged by his handholds, found footholds and began his sideways climb.

“Damn, look at that fucker move,” he heard Lovell shout.

“He’s like a goddamn spider crawling on a wall,” this from Garza.

“He’s too tall so it makes it hard for him to press himself flat. It throws his center of balance off.” Brad was surprised to hear Nate’s voice criticizing him. The little shit.

His fellow Marines all laughed at his expense.

This time, Nate raised his voice loudly in challenge. “In other words, Colbert; your ass is hanging out.”

Nate’s words were met with congratulations and loud laughter. Brad was ridiculed for having friends who would throw him down that way. He smiled to himself as he made his way around the boulder and wondered why he’d been worried about how Nate would fit in.

Returning to his start point, Brad jumped to the ground.

“Three-ten,” Ray announced.

“Fuck,” Christesen said. “I’ve never made it around in less than four-thirty.”

“Nate, my friend,” Ray said, gesturing for Nate to take his position. “Please kick the Iceman’s ass. We’ve waited many long years for someone to be able to show him up. Please, be a good Marine’s messiah.”

Nate huffed a laugh, stripped off his shirt and threw it at Brad. He crouched at the base of the rock.

Ray called time and Nate was scrambling along the rock quick enough to shut everyone up for several seconds.

“You’re in trouble, Brad,” Rudy declared.

Brad didn’t give a fuck. He was watching Nate climb. Or rather, he was watching the muscles in Nate’s back and legs as he climbed.

It wasn’t that Brad thought of Nate as a kid. He knew he was a grown man. It was just that he _looked_ so fucking young that Brad half expected him to have a boyish body.

Instead, Nate was all hard, sinewy muscle. Brad watched the muscles in his back and shoulders flex and contract, ripple and strain beneath his smooth skin as he made his way around the boulder. Nate’s firm, round ass flexed as he moved and the muscles in his thighs stood out in stark relief.

Nate Fick was one hot man and Brad’s dick suddenly wanted to go say ‘hi’. He closed his eyes briefly and breathed deeply through his nose, willing his cock back into submission.

Brad watched as Nate jumped to the ground, somehow knowing he’d just been beaten, in more ways than one.

“Three-oh-four!” Ray screeched and Brad lost sight of Nate in the crowd of congratulations.

When Nate separated himself and approached Brad, he was smiling happily, if a little derisively.

Brad threw his shirt back at him.

“Sorry,” Nate said.

“Don’t be,” Brad replied. “But don’t expect any mercy, either.”

“Okay, new wager,” Ray bellowed. “A buck a minute for every minute you’re behind the first one up; after Brad and Nate. Ten bucks will get you action on Brad vs. Nate; has the Iceman met his match?”

“Fuck this, let’s go,” Brad said, walking to his truck and retrieving their ropes.

“I didn’t cause any trouble, did I?” Nate asked quietly, falling into step beside him.

“What the fuck gave you that idea?” Brad asked incredulously. “You’ve got them eating out of your hand.”

“Not really,” Nate argued. “It seems I just helped them gang up on you.”

“That happens all the time,” Brad replied. “I’m the top dog in a pack made up entirely of alpha males. Trying to take me down is how they jockey for position amongst themselves.”

“I didn’t mean to challenge you in front of all of them. I just wanted to give you a hard time.”

Brad was gratified by Nate’s concern for him and his authority with his men. “And in doing so you immediately endeared yourself to some of the most dangerous men on the planet. You could have done worse.”

Brad and Nate started up the rock wall face before everyone else had finished laying their bets.

“So,” Brad said when they were several feet off the ground and out of earshot. “Everyone else has their wager.” He paused with the effort to pull himself up with a two handed grip. “Maybe you and I should have a little wager of our own.”

“What are you thinking?” Nate grunted as he lifted a leg hip-height to reach a foothold.

“Well, if I beat you to the top, I’ve got this little fantasy about you, that I’ve had for quite some time, I’d like to actually try.” Jesus, was Brad really asking for this?

“Why am I just hearing about this now?” Nate was smiling and didn’t seem the least bit put off.

“I’ve been saving up.”

“And if I beat you to the top?” Nate challenged.

“Besides the fact that you’ll be the hero of a platoon of Recon Marines? What do you want?”

“I want to top,” Nate said after a brief hesitation.

“You know you don’t have to win a bet for that, right?” Brad asked, astounded that Nate was hesitant and that he felt he had to ask in advance.

“You’re top dog in a pack of alpha males, Brad,” Nate parroted his own words back to him. “You don’t strike me as one to submit easily.”

Nate had a point. “You ask me nicely with that sweet little cock sucking mouth of yours, Nate, you’d be surprised what you can get me to do.”

“So what’s this long standing fantasy you have about me?”

“How do you feel about role play?” Brad prevaricated.

“What do you think?” Nate shot him a bawdy smile.

“Since meeting you, I seem to have developed a little ‘daddy kink’.” Fuck, had Brad really just said that out loud?

“Have I been a good little boy or a bad little boy?”

Brad chuckled breathlessly with the effort of climbing, not from the apprehension of confessing his fantasy to Nate. “You’re a good little boy who likes to make Daddy happy.”

“So, not much of a stretch then.”

“Do we have a bet?” Brad pressed.

“Fuck yeah.”

Halfway up the rock face, Brad and Nate hooked into carabineers and sat back in their harnesses to rest.

Brad looked down to see who the nearest Marine was. He wasn’t surprised to see Rudy in the lead with some of the newer, younger Marines hot on his heels. He could make out Trombley and Ray a little further back.

“You’re all an embarrassment to the Corps,” Brad shouted down at them all. “A civilian; _a civilian_ is keeping up with me when none of you can.”

Various shouts and curses drifted up to them and Nate chuckled.

At the top of the wall, Brad and Nate hooked in and sat back again, resting before they pulled their ropes up and started their repels. Their final few yards had been a desperate scramble. Nate had kept up valiantly, making Brad have to push hard to make it up first. In the end, for all his talk about Brad’s height throwing off his center of gravity, Nate had been bested by Brad’s greater reach.

“So, _Daddy_,” Nate said with a truly evil smile that Brad felt in his dick. “If I sit in your lap will you tell me I’ve been a good boy?”

Brad glanced down and saw Hasser closing fast so he refrained from replying. He simply looked at Nate and smiled.

“I made it first, you pansy-assed motherfuckers,” Brad shouted down to the group. “So pay the winners, Ray. Everyone who bet on Nate; I’ll seek retribution tomorrow.”

Nate laughed long and loud at the disgruntled shouts and swearing that drifted up to them. Brad’s chest tightened, as it always did, at the site of Nate’s open smile lighting his face.

“I’m sorry,” Nate shouted down. “I really tried but he has those freakishly long arms.”

Brad and Nate had repelled down before anyone else made it to the top. They sat on the open tailgate of Brad’s truck, sipping water and sharing a pack of Skittles.

Nate was being assaulted from all directions by questions from wives and girlfriends. Brad listened carefully and closely to the answers he gave. He was in his last semester at the University. He was excited to be done finally. He told his major, where he was from and yes, he really was twenty-one. Yes, he knew he looked younger. He’d met Brad one night when they were both out drinking and had exchanged insults - Brad had to hide his smile at that one. They’d been hanging out when Nate had the time ever since.

As his fellow Marines began to join them, removing harnesses and drinking water, the questions became more pointed and Nate became the target of some very colorful insults.

For his part, Nate smiled at some, returned others, and after awhile began to start verbal skirmishes. Brad’s chest swelled with pride as he watched Nate, not only hold his own, but win a few of the smack downs. The more vicious it got, the more Brad new the men liked Nate; respected him. Nate seemed inherently to understand this and never took offense and never backed down.

The questions being asked and the suggestions being raised were more problematic. Brad saw the moment Ray realized that Brad’s silence and Nate’s evasion were answers in and of themselves. It wouldn’t stop them from still trying to get Brad or Nate to _admit_ openly to anything, but Brad new that in a very short amount of time, his platoon would fully understand the nature of his relationship with Nate.

Brad found he didn’t give a fuck. If Ray was any indication, neither did they.

“I’m sorry,” Nate whispered, leaning in close to Brad during a lull in the conversation. “I think they suspect the truth.”

“No, they know the truth,” Brad corrected, watching Nate closely and wondering how he felt about it.

“I thought I was more discreet than that.” Nate’s expression was worried. “Should we leave?”

“What the fuck for?” Brad asked incredulously. “They’re having entirely too much fun with you. You’d only piss them off if you tried to leave now.”

Whatever Nate might have said was interrupted by a loud group of Marines led by Ray.

“So Nate,” Ray said, in his typically loud, rambling way. “Are your pussy, liberal, bleeding-heart, peace-loving, hippy-freak sensibilities being corrupted yet by Brad’s conservative, patriotic, blood-thirsty warrior ways?”

“Actually,” Brad startled himself by interrupting. “Nate’s got a pretty good grasp of what it is we do and what would help us do it better. He could probably plan our next recon mission better than some of the morons they have in command.”

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” Ray said. “This over-privileged, pampered little dick-suck?”

“He’s not privileged,” Brad snapped, offended on Nate’s behalf. “And he’s by no means pampered. He works hard. He handed in this paper that perfectly outlined the reality of our failure in Baghdad and how it could have been prevented. His professor failed it because he didn’t agree with the assertions; not because the paper was shit. Now he’s in the middle of appealing the grade. He knows his shit and he’ll go to the wall to defend it if he thinks it’s right. It isn’t easy for him but he keeps working at it. Sound like any Marines you know?”

“Leave it to the Iceman to find a closet warrior hiding amongst the liberal elite,” Ray said, walking away, shaking his head.

Brad turned to smile at Nate. His smile faded slightly when he found Nate watching him with an intense scrutiny. Had he just unknowingly fucked up somehow?

“Did you mean that?” Nate asked softy. “Or were you just defending me?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, _Nathaniel_,” Brad replied scornfully. “You don’t need me to defend you. You do fine on your own, which is why they like you.”

“I don’t care if they like me, as long as I don’t say or do anything to damage you in their eyes.”

Brad’s reply was stopped by loud cheers from the entire assembled crowd. He looked up to see Rudy had stripped down to a rather snug pair of shorts and was emptying a bottle of water over his head. The resulting live porno scene had suggestive and appreciative shouts being tossed at him from all directions.

Shaking his head at the spectacle, Brad turned back to see Nate’s reaction to Rudy. He was surprised to meet green eyes with his own. Nate wasn’t watching Rudy at all. Nate was openly watching Brad and his expression held things Brad didn’t want to name quite yet.

“Don’t like the show?” Brad asked, voice rough.

“Mmmm,” Nate replied thoughtfully. “Too flashy. I prefer what’s right here in front of me.”

Several hours, and several beers later, Brad and Ray sat on the tailgate of his truck singing off key. It was how they’d passed the time in the Humvee back in Iraq and occasionally, Brad felt just mellow enough to belt a few out.

Currently, they were singing ‘Lady in Red’ at the top of their voices, altering the lyrics as they went so the song took on a more pornographic theme.

Brad watched Nate in the distance, deep in conversation with Pappy.

“You don’t give strangers the time of day, Brad,” Ray said to him suddenly. “So I think there’s more to how you two met than either of you are telling. Still, he likes you; the real you, not that detached, disdainful, sardonic asshole you pretend is you.”

“For now,” Brad agreed, wishing he didn’t actually believe his own words. “He’s got a job offer in another city. He’s from back there. He’ll be gone the day after he graduates.”

“No, he won’t,” Ray said.

“He’s too smart,” Brad argued. “He’s got too much potential to do great things. I’m a stepping stone to his next great adventure.”

“You two might wanna talk more and fuck just a little bit less,” Ray chided. “Have you asked him to take a local job?”

“No, I’m not going to do that. He needs to take the job that’s right for him. If the local offer was the right fit, he’d have taken it by now and told me. He’s just marking time.”

“You need to shut down that little pity party you got goin’ on there and tell him you want him to stick around. Stop kidding yourself that you don’t get to have what you want. How’s Nate supposed to know you want him to stay if you don’t tell him?”

Ray didn’t wait for an answer before sliding off the tailgate and moving on to harass someone else.

~*~

Nate helped Brad put his ropes back in storage and they put away the rest of their climbing gear.

“I need a shower,” Nate declared.

“I do, too,” Brad concurred.

“You should go first,” Nate said, pulling clean clothes out of his bag.

“First?” Brad asked, hooking Nate around the waist and dragging him into the bathroom. “Try together.”

“We’re not going to get much washing done this way,” Nate laughed but not putting up any resistance.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Brad growled against Nate’s ear. “I’m going to make sure you’re extra clean. Then, you can return the favor.”

Brad started the shower and Nate stripped off his clothing. Ever since watching him on the boulder, Brad had been aching to get his hands on Nate and feel those muscles flex beneath his skin. Quickly throwing off his own clothes, he tugged Nate into the stall. Brad held Nate under the spray and kissed him. Nate wrapped his arms around Brad’s chest and kissed him back.

“You ready to collect on our bet?” Nate murmured against the skin of Brad’s throat.

“Mmmm,” Brad hummed, tipping his head back to give Nate better access. “No, don’t worry about that. I was just having fun with you.” Now that they were down off the cliff face, Brad’s fantasy seemed extreme and demeaning. Nate was worth more to him than that.

“But you won legitimately and I agreed to the wager,” Nate said as he licked water from Brad’s chest.

“It was worth it just to get to see you climbing without your shirt,” Brad deflected, telling at least a partial truth.

“You don’t strike me as someone interested in complete age-play.” Nate’s tone was professional. “No baby-talk and diapers.”

“Oh, fuck no.” Not only did the idea repulse Brad, but so did the thought that Nate considered this a way of servicing him.

“So, maybe you just want to be adored by a teenaged virgin? You want to show an innocent boy the pleasures of the flesh?” Nate’s tone shifted to one of enticement and seduction.

Brad groaned at that thought in spite of himself. Yeah, his dick liked the idea, too.

Nate handed Brad the shower gel. “You promised to help me get clean.” He nipped at Brad’s throat. “Do you want me to call you Daddy?”

“That might be going a little too far, even for me,” Brad said roughly, knowing he was going to concede. He turned them so that his back was to the spray. Then he spun Nate so his back was pressed to Brad’s chest.

“I’m really dirty,” Nate said in a low voice, his lips grazing Brad’s jaw.

“You’re a dirty little boy, aren’t you?” Brad chuckled in spite of himself at their cliché-laden banter.

“I need help getting clean.” Nate sounded uncannily youthful and naively innocent. It fueled Brad’s desire.

He filled his palm with shower gel and reached down for Nate’s semi-hard cock. He spread the gel around, lathering it up along Nate’s dick and his ball sac.

“That feels strange,” Nate moaned, still sounding young and unsure, against Brad’s jaw. He slid one arm beneath Brad’s and clutched his tricep. His other hand snaked up to grasp the back of Brad’s head.

“But does it feel good?” Brad reached for his own role as the experienced seducer.

“Yeah.” Nate managed to infuse his voice with a sense of surprised wonder.

Brad cupped and caressed Nate’s balls, pressing gently on his perineum and then sweeping up his shaft.

“Oh,” Nate sighed. “Why does it feel like that?”

“Don’t you ever touch yourself there?” Brad asked, finding it easy to follow Nate’s effortless lead into the game.

“No, it’s naughty.” It should have sounded ridiculous but instead it was arousing.

“No, it’s not. It’s good. Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”

Brad stroked up Nate’s entire length, tearing a low groan from his throat.

“Do you like it like this?” he asked, stroking with his entire fist. “Or like this better?” He slid his thumb and two fingers over the head of Nate’s cock.

“I like that last part,” Nate answered breathlessly.

Brad slid his other hand down to caress Nate’s ass.

“Oh,” Nate sighed. “No one’s ever touched me there. Isn’t this bad?”

“Does it feel bad?”

“No, no it doesn’t.”

Brad slid his hand between Nate’s ass cheeks and caressed his tight hole, feeling the lather he had already spread there.

“You shouldn’t touch me there. It’s wrong.”

“Just relax,” Brad urged. “You’ll enjoy this. That’s my good boy.”

He pressed two fingers up inside of Nate’s body. He felt Nate’s hands clutch reflexively at his arm and his skull.

“Oh god,” Nate groaned, not entirely in character.

Brad fucked Nate’s ass with his fingers, grazing repeatedly and mercilessly against his prostate with each thrust. He kept up his rhythm on Nate’s cock, stroking firmly over the head.

“Does that feel good?” Brad asked against Nate’s temple.

“I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know I could feel this.”

“I know. I have so many other things to show you that are just as good.” Brad was literally high with his arousal. Euphoria swept through him as he acted out his role as sexual mentor.

Brad felt Nate’s body tremble. His muscles clenched around Brad’s fingers and his hips began to flex in an irregular rhythm.

“What’s happening?” Nate asked, pretending distress and confusion. “What’s happening to me?”

“Just relax and let it happen. It’ll feel so good.”

Nate came hard, come shooting against the shower wall. Brad stroked his cock, feeling it twitch and pulse in his hand. At the same time, he pressed firmly and rapidly against Nate’s prostate, milking him as he clenched around Brad’s fingers. Nate’s groans and cries were all his own and not in fitting with the role he’d been playing. Brad was gratified.

As he relaxed, Nate tipped his head back to rest on Brad’s shoulder.

“Wow,” he breathed.

Brad cleaned them both up quickly, rinsing away all the lather.

Nate turned against Brad and whispered against his ear, “Teach me how to make you feel that good, too.”

Brad laughed uncomfortably. What had he been thinking? He’d been struggling with ways to help Nate understand that Brad wanted more than just professional sex from him, and then he turns around and has him act out kinky role-play. What an idiot.

“I’m good,” Brad tried to sound convincing. “Don’t worry about me.” He shut off the water and reached for a towel.

Wrapping the first towel around Nate, Brad pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead and escaped the shower stall. He dried too quickly, leaving water on his own skin and making it uncomfortable when he slid into a pair of jeans. Nate was still drying off when Brad headed for the kitchen, looking for something, anything, to take the edge off and move his mind away from the image of an innocent and compliant Nate.

He pulled out a bottle of beer. Brad screwed off the cap viciously and took a long drink. Fuck.

His first beer was just about empty when Nate appeared. He was dressed in his sleep pants, always too large, and he had appropriated one of Brad’s t-shirts. It hung loosely on him, obviously meant for a broader man. Nate looked like a kid wearing his father’s clothes. Brad’s name, ‘Colbert’, was stenciled across the shirt and he felt as though it labeled Nate; marked him as Brad’s possession.

He took out another beer, ignoring the surge in his cock at the thought of Nate branded as belonging to Brad. He was frantic to stop sending the message to Nate that all he wanted from him was freaky sex.

When he turned around, Nate pressed up against him, rubbing his thigh against Brad’s erection through his jeans.

“You were enjoying yourself,” Nate whispered into his ear. “You liked it. I want to do this for you.”

He’d tried. Brad had really tried. He’d wanted to be strong. Fuck, if Nate didn’t know just how to hit his buttons.

“I’ve never tasted beer before,” Nate said, resuming his act of innocence. “May I try some?”

Brad reluctantly handed over the bottle, knowing he was passing a point of no return. “Drink it slow at first. You’re not used to it.”

He watched in fascination as Nate raised the bottle to his lips. Nate took a delicate sip and looked up at Brad through his lashes. Christ, how did he manage to look so fucking young and innocent? Could Brad really be blamed for not being able to resist this kind of calculated enticement?

“It’s bitter,” Nate said, and then smiled. “The bubbles tickle.”

Brad took out another beer for himself and drank deeply, hoping it was enough to fortify him for what came next. He watched Nate pretend to sip his beer carefully.

“Keep drinking,” Brad encouraged, helpless to stop himself from slipping back into his own character. “It’ll make you feel warm and happy.”

Nate emptied the bottle then leaned into Brad’s body to set it on the counter behind him.

“I feel dizzy,” he said with a giggle that made Brad’s heart rate kick up.

Brad set his own bottle on the counter. “Let’s go sit down, then.”

He led Nate to the couch and sat down. Nate climbed onto him, too tall to actually sit in his lap, but doing a fair imitation. Brad cradled Nate’s body to his own. He reveled in the heat of Nate’s body and the weight of him against Brad’s legs.

“Would you like to learn how to kiss?” he asked playfully, reaching again for that euphoric feeling he’d had in the shower.

“I know how to kiss,” Nate answered, as if Brad was being silly.

“Show me,” Brad challenged, breathing hard in anticipation.

As he’d expected, Nate leaned in and placed a small peck on Brad’s cheek.

“No, that’s how little kids kiss,” he reproved gently.

“Then show me how big boys do it,” Nate said timidly; the perfect enticement for Brad.

He pressed his lips to Nate’s and heard him make a sound of surprise. Brad licked across the seam of Nate’s lips once, then pressed the tip inward. He asked, without words, for entrance into Nate’s mouth. Brad was given access after the briefest hesitation. He chased after Nate’s tongue, caressing it with his own, luring Nate into licking back against him.

“Your tongue feels funny,” Nate said quietly, as if he really had just been shown the wonder of a full kiss. Brad struggled to breathe and felt himself tremble.

“You try it,” he encouraged.

Nate’s mouth came to rest against Brad’s, uncertain and feather-light. The tip of his tongue flicked against Brad’s lips, but didn’t immediately seek entrance. Nate gently laid his tongue against the slight part of Brad’s but went no further. Brad urged him onward by opening his mouth just a little wider.

Brad smothered a moan when Nate’s tongue slid into his mouth and moved over his top teeth. Nate used his tongue teasingly, finding sensitive places and rubbing against them, before meeting Brad’s tongue fully.

He pulled back and looked up at Brad coyly and asked, “Did I do it right?” He pressed the back of his hand to his lips and Brad needed to restrain himself from pinning Nate to the couch right then.

“You were perfect.” Brad knew he’d infused that statement with more meaning than Nate had been searching for. He could only hope it went unnoticed.

“Do you want me to touch you where you touched me? Will it make you feel good?” Nate asked, brilliantly fusing uncertainty and temptation.

“Why don’t you kiss me there, instead?” Brad was hard to the point of pain and he was besieged with the need to speed the game along.

 “I’m embarrassed,” Nate teased.

“Don’t be. You’re going to look wonderful doing it. It’ll make me feel so good.” Brad’s words were the truth; game or no game. He anxiously hoped Nate was too deep into their role-play to intuit that fact.

Nate eased down onto the floor between Brad’s legs and reached for his fly. His hand grasped Brad’s briefly, pressing something into his palm. When Brad looked, he saw it was a condom.

Brad froze, knowing his conflict over enjoying this so much was wasted. Nate had thought this all through and had come to him prepared. Relief washed through him as he realized Nate was instigating and coordinating this scene, not just yielding to Brad’s desires.

Nate kissed the very tip of Brad’s cock. Brad held him off long enough to roll the condom down his shaft.

Nate licked along the length of Brad’s erection several times. He sucked at the head, swirling his tongue around the tip. He didn’t apply any pressure and he didn’t swallow Brad down. It seemed to Brad he was _playing_.

Brad was frustrated and he growled at Nate, low in his throat. He put his hands on the back of Nate’s head and pressed downward slightly, coaxing him to take more.

“Take the whole thing in your mouth and suck on it, hard,” Brad said, his voice strained and rough.

Nate drew the head of Brad’s cock into his mouth. Brad felt the heat through the latex and he bit the inside of his cheek at the sensation. Nate sucked hard on the tip of Brad dick.

“That’s good,” he bit out. “Now push your mouth down the entire length, until you can’t get any more in or you start to choke.”

Achingly slow, Nate lowered his lips down along the length of Brad’s erection. He stopped just as Brad began to feel the grasp of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that,” he praised. “Now pull back and suck hard on me as you go.”

Nate did just as Brad asked and the hot suction was magic.  He couldn’t stop himself from pressing down on Nate’s head at the same time his hips came off the couch slightly. 

Nate went down on Brad, sucking hard as he withdrew, several more times. Brad held it together, managing not to shove himself down Nate’s throat. He controlled himself right up until the time he couldn’t anymore.

Brad’s hips came up reflexively and he felt himself slide deep into Nate’s throat. Nate choked wetly, pulling back and off of Brad’s cock with a gasp. The sight and the sound was so fucking hot, Brad thought he might come then and there. Christ, but he badly wanted to fuck Nate’s mouth and force more of those gagging, gasping sounds out of him.

He pushed at Nate’s shoulders more roughly than he intended but Brad wanted him in position to have his mouth fucked.

Nate rocked back on his heels and his eyes sought Brad’s, wide and anxious. “What did I do wrong?” he gasped. “I thought that’s how you wanted it?”

Fuck it, but Brad couldn’t get a damn thing right, tonight. He knew that Nate didn’t mind being pushed around physically as long as he knew to expect it. Brad’s heart clenched as he once again reminded himself that unexpected roughness made Nate uneasy. He’d never asked why because he was afraid of the answer.

“You’re a little too good at that,” Brad said, trying to keep his gruff voice as mild as he could. “I was close to being done but I want to show you a few other things, first.”

Nate nodded his understanding and visibly relaxed. Brad reached down and tugged Nate’s t-shirt over his head.

“Sit all the way back, hold yourself up with your arms,” Brad instructed even as he pushed Nate backward into a sitting position, his weight resting on his hands.

Brad stood up, deliberately towering over Nate where he sat reclining on the floor. Nate stared up at him, worshipful and expectant. Brad straddled Nate’s hips and held his own cock at the base, guiding it toward Nate’s swollen mouth.

“Wrap your lips around your teeth so you don’t hurt me.” Brad was deliberately stern this time. “Now just open your mouth and I’m going to stick my dick in it. I’ll do the work; you just suck on me like I taught you.”

Obediently, Nate opened his mouth and invited Brad inside. He grabbed hold of Nate’s head to steady and guide him and proceeded to fuck his mouth.

Brad thrust his hips fast and hard, knowing he was bordering on brutal. It was just so fucking hot to watch his cock slide between Nate’s stretched lips and to hear the sloppy, wet choking sounds he made.

“That’s it, Little Man,” Brad moaned. “You do that so well.”

On one inward thrust, Brad stilled himself. He kept his cockhead pressed to the back of Nate’s throat and listened to him struggle to breathe around it. Brad pulled himself all the way out to give Nate a moment to relax. When his dick exited past Nate’s lips, a string of spit came away, leashing Nate’s lower lip to Brad’s erection. The string broke and a small pool collected on Nate’s naked chest.

Brad enjoyed vulgar imagery but that had to be the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Brad reached down and hauled Nate to his feet. He kissed him hard before Nate could grow anxious about Brad’s abrupt and rough movements.

“You’re a good little cocksucker,” he sighed against Nate’s lips, feeling himself breathe heavily from his exertions.

“Thank you,” Nate whispered, his hands clutching at Brad’s back. “I want to make you happy. I want you to like me.”

If Nate only knew.

Brad slid a hand under the waist of Nate’s sleep pants and eased a finger between the cheeks of his ass. He stroked lightly at the tight opening Nate clenched, even now.

“I want to put my cock in there.”

“No. It’s dirty. It’ll hurt,” Nate said anxiously, as if scripted.

“It’ll feel good, I promise,” Brad soothed.  “Did my fingers feel good earlier?”

“Yes,” Nate admitted, reluctantly.

“This is even better.” Brad smiled to reassure him. “Slide your pants off for me, Little Man.”

Nate took a step back and slowly stripped off his sleep pants. He took Brad’s hand and stepped back into his arms. When Brad looked at what Nate had handed off to him, he saw a small tube of lubricant.

“Kneel on the couch like a good boy,” Brad instructed. “Rest yourself against the arm, make sure you’re comfortable.”

Nate did as Brad told him. As he draped himself provocatively over the arm of the sofa, he looked over his shoulder at Brad with a bashful expression. He made Brad want to shove his dick inside that moment, no lube, no prep. He held himself in check, though, not wanting to ruin this game they had going on.

“Very nice,” Brad praised, stepping out of his jeans and kneeling between Nate’s spread legs. “You’re very attractive like this; naked and open for me.”

“This won’t hurt, will it?” Nate asked in a small voice.

“No,” Brad said as he placed soft kisses along Nate’s spine. “No, it’ll feel good.”

Brad ran his hands over Nate’s back, down his ribs and smoothed over his ass. He felt warm and firm beneath Brad’s hands. He dragged his tongue up the length of Nate’s spine and kissed the back of his neck. As responsive as ever, Nate pressed back against him and made soft sounds in the back of his throat. 

“Now relax for me,” Brad said as he opened the lube. “I have to get you ready first.”

“Okay,” Nate agreed softly.

Brad pressed a slick finger into Nate and felt him tense as he made a surprised, strangled sound.

“It’s okay.” Brad caressed his back with his free hand. “Just relax and let it feel good.”

Brad teased inside of Nate with his finger for a while, pretending this was Nate’s first time and he was a little nervous. He withdrew his finger and added lube before sliding it back inside. Nate made a pleased sound this time and didn’t tense.

He moved his finger around, drawing it out slightly then pressing it back in, lightly grazing Nate’s prostate. He didn’t want to stimulate him, just give him a promise of things to come.

This time, Brad coated two fingers generously and pushed them inward. He received Nate’s gasp of surprise in return. He fucked Nate’s ass with his fingers, fast but gentle, twisting once in awhile to spread the lube around inside.

Finally, Brad coated three fingers heavily and slid them into Nate’s welcoming hole. The sound Nate made was almost one of pain but his body wasn’t tense and he pushed backward against Brad. He pressed his fingers down and rubbed firmly against Nate’s gland.

Brad must have caught him by surprise because Nate groaned loudly, his hands clenching on the sofa arm.

“Easy,” Brad soothed. “Felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Nate said breathlessly. “But it feels like a lot.”

Brad smiled at the rather inexperienced way Nate deliberately described the intense feeling. He coated his still condom-sheathed cock with a heavy amount of lube as if this really was Nate’s first time getting fucked. He pressed himself right up against the pink opening and paused.

“Relax and breathe,” Brad said, running his hands along Nate’s sides. “Try not to tense up or it will hurt more.”

“Yes, sir,” Nate said in a low, husky voice.

Brad pressed his hips forward and breached Nate’s body. He was hot and tight like a virgin but he was as relaxed as ever. The copious amounts of lube gave Brad a slick glide inward until he was completely seated. He groaned at the sensation of being so deep inside of Nate and he pressed his sweaty forehead to Nate’s shoulder.

“Oh god, oh god,” Nate was chanting beneath him. “You’re too big. It’s too much.”

“Shhh, shhhh,” Brad said against Nate’s neck. “You’ll be fine, just relax and breathe.”

“It hurts,” Nate nearly sobbed.

“It won’t for long. It’s gonna feel wonderful if you relax,” Brad replied.

He slid himself out and then pushed back in and Nate cried out sharply. Brad repeated this slow, deep fucking several times, listening to Nate’s surprised, strangled sounds beneath him. Each fraught cry struck Brad at the very heart of his arousal.

“That’s it, Little Man,” he whispered against Nate’s sweat-slick skin. “It feels good, doesn’t it? You like having me inside you?”

“Yeah,” Nate answered between the harsh cries Brad’s cock was forcing out of him with each inward thrust.

He adjusted position and angled his cock downward just slightly, thrusting hard without meaning to but still grazing Nate’s prostate.

“Oh, fuck, Brad,” Nate shouted, completely out of character now. “You’re gonna fucking make me come doing that.”

This was going to be over before Brad had wanted it to be. They were going to stain his couch with come and lube and Brad didn’t give a fuck.

He slammed himself into Nate’s body and rocked them both into the arm of the sofa. Nate’s sounds were all his own now, all pretense of role-play completely gone.

Nate clutched at the sofa arm and pushed back into Brad’s thrusts, shouting with each slap of bare skin.

“Right there, like that,” Nate whispered harshly and Brad didn’t think he even knew he was speaking, let alone what he was saying. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, each time Brad’s hips slapped against his ass.

When Nate came it was with a loud cry. His entire body shuddered against Brad’s, rocking them both against the arm of the sofa. Each tremor rolled through Brad’s system, dragging him inexorably toward his own orgasm. He stayed inside of Nate, feeling his body clench around Brad’s cock. He pressed himself to Nate’s length just to feel the final shockwaves roll through him.

Brad buried has face in Nate’s neck as he came. He sucked in harsh breaths in between his own groans and cries. He could smell Nate’s scent; his sweat and his come. Brad came so hard he ached with it, feeling his balls strain against his own body as they emptied themselves convulsively. His arms gave out and Brad collapsed on top of Nate’s spent body. He breathed harshly against Nate’s skin. He felt amazed that someone like Nate could come apart so readily and so intensely in his arms and under his body. Brad knew he must be crushing Nate but he couldn’t move, he didn’t want to break contact with the pliant and warm body beneath him.

“Are you okay?” Nate asked gently, one hand coming up to run over Brad’s hair.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I should be asking you that.”

“I’m great,” Nate assured him eagerly. “Is that what you wanted? Is that what you hoped for?”

Brad lifted himself slightly, at first unsure what Nate meant. Then he realized Nate was wondering if he’d pleased Brad. He needed to know if he’d fulfilled Brad’s fantasy satisfactorily.

“That was fucking fantastic,” he said honestly. “But I don’t _need_ the games, Nate. I just want you.”

He wrapped his arms around Nate and held him close while they both struggled to catch their breath.


	9. He's Not Going To Be Able To Walk Away

Brad knew Nate wouldn’t be home when he got there. He was prepared this time. Nate had been called to the Department Head’s office, a Dr. Patterson, to elaborate on his issue with Professor Griego over his grade. Brad wasn’t sure how these things worked but anyone not walking around with their head up their ass would know Nate deserved a better grade.

The trouble was, in Brad’s experience, most people had their heads up their asses.

The night before, Nate had acted optimistic. Brad wondered if he was putting on a show for Brad’s benefit. He knew Nate was trying to be positive about the entire debacle but deep down, didn’t have much faith anyone would see things his way.

Brad took stock of what he could do to help. Even if Nate came home with good news, the experience will have drained him so he decided the best he could do was have Nate’s favorite things waiting for him.

He had just pulled the steaks off the grill and was checking the garlic red potatoes when Nate got home. Brad opened the beer bottle for him as soon as he walked in. Nate let his bags fall and took the bottle from Brad with a heartfelt ‘thank you’.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Brad told him and went back to cooking, waiting for Nate to be ready to talk.

“Dr. Patterson wants to meet with both Professor Griego and me,” Nate finally said.

“That’s good, right?” Brad asked. “He didn’t automatically side with your professor.”

“I think it’s good. It’s hard to tell. He was more concerned about the incident inside the lecture hall. He received complaints, I guess.”

“That has to weigh in your favor.”

“I keep hoping so. I’m just afraid Dr. Patterson is going to feel the need to back his professor or risk undermining his staff’s authority in their own classes.”

“Is there anything to be said for sending a message to his staff that certain behaviors are unacceptable and grading systems have to be fair and impartial?”

“He alluded to something along those lines. I have to have faith that that’s the direction this will go in.”

“What did he think of your paper?”

“I don’t really know. He quizzed me on it a lot and of course, I’d taken all my reference materials.”

Brad set a heaping plate of food in front of Nate. “Then you’ve done what you can do. There’re Skittles for dessert.”

Nate didn’t look pleased and cheered like Brad had wanted him to. In fact, he looked confused and a little defeated.

“Why do you do things like this for me?” he asked in a small voice.

“I knew you’d have had a hard day and I thought it would cheer you up,” Brad replied, confused and dreading where Nate was going to take this conversation.

“You do so much for me and I just take advantage of you. There isn’t anything I do for you in return except …”

Brad suspected he knew what Nate had been about to say.

“I do these things because I want to,” Brad replied. “I like this,” he gestured between the two of them. “I like knowing where you are and just having you here.”

He took the stool next to Nate’s as usual but didn’t start eating. He suspected Nate had more to say.

“You fuck women, too, don’t you?”

That took Brad by surprise. “Yeah, so?”

“This,” Nate copied Brad’s gesture between their two bodies. “Doesn’t replace a wife and children.”

Brad sat up straight and held up both hands as if to ward off Nate’s words.

“Slow the fuck down,” he said nervously. “We went from me cooking you dinner to me having a family faster than I can follow. What’s this about, Nate?”

“This is something you should be doing with a family.” the words tumbled from Nate’s mouth in a rush as he pointed at the plates of food.

“What would you do if I got deployed tomorrow and was gone for three to six months? You wouldn’t know exactly where I was or how long I’d be gone and contact would be limited to sporadic, short phone calls and the occasional hurried email. What would you do?”

“I’d finish school, start my job, keep an eye on your house if you wanted me to. Wait for you to come home. _Hope_ that you came home.”

“That’s what you do for me, Nate. That’s what I get out of this. Women all want me home for this,” he gestured at their food, “every night and don’t have a lot of understanding about why I go where I go and do what I do.”

“You’ll never have the chance to find one who would understand if I’m hanging around.”

“What makes you think I haven’t already tried that route?”

“Did you?”

“I was engaged to a woman, once. She’d been my girlfriend since we were in Jr. High School.”

“What happened?”

“She married my best friend from Jr. High School.”

“Fuck. So she’s the one.”

“The one, what?”

“The one that hurt you so badly you don’t believe anyone can like you; can just want to be with you because you’re you. Not need you to be anything else.”

“Yeah. I guess so. They invite me over all the time for parties and bar-b-ques and I used to go. I thought it was my penance for being so sure I’m meant to be a Marine. I thought for a long time that because of the way I am, the things I like and the way I speak and the way I act around other people, that a happy ending like that wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“You don’t go anymore when they invite you?”

“Not since I met you, anyway.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I quit worrying about what I don’t have and I’m enjoying what I do have, for as long as I have it.” he didn’t add, for as long as Nate let him have it.

“Do you go with women when I’m at work?”

“Not since that one time, and that turned out to be a big mistake. Do you go with anyone besides me that isn’t a client?”

“No, never.”

“Do we really have a problem here?”

“I guess not.”

After that, dinner was a relaxed and companionable experience.

~*~

That night, Brad didn’t waste any time getting Nate naked and into bed.

“I’m hard for you,” Brad whispered into Nate’s ear.

“And I’m hard for you,” Nate replied.

Brad rolled onto his side and pulled Nate with him so he could continue to press his back to his own chest. He placed a hand on Nate’s cheek and turned him for a kiss.

They lingered with their lips pressed together, teasing one another with their tongues. “I want to fuck you like this,” Brad whispered into Nate’s mouth.

“Please.” he received in response.

Brad slid his hand down Nate’s chest and over his taut belly. He wrapped his fingers lightly around Nate’s hard cock and stroked it once…twice… Nate moaned loudly and took Brad’s lips again in a deep kiss.

Reaching behind him, Brad retrieved the trusty bottle of lube and a condom. Getting the condom onto himself with one hand proved tricky, but Brad made it happen. He handed the lube to Nate who squeezed some out onto Brad’s fingers. He moved his hand between Nate’s ass cheeks. He’d warmed it the best he could but Nate still jumped and hissed slightly at the coldness. They both laughed quietly at the reaction.

Brad slid a finger inside of Nate’s warm heat. He spread the lube around inside of his body. He slid a second finger in and was rewarded with the sense of Nate relaxing around him.

He withdrew his fingers and used the rest of the lube on himself. Nate drew his own knee up toward his chest to give Brad access, of which he happily took advantage. Lining himself up, Brad pressed his body into Nate until he felt the ring of muscle give. His cock slid home.

Nate’s eyes were closed but Brad heard him whisper, “Oh, yesssss.”

Brad had to agree and he leaned down to place a kiss on Nate’s cheek. Then he began to move. He curled an arm under Nate’s neck in order to keep their bodies close as they moved. For his part, Nate reached behind them to grasp Brad’s hip tightly. Together they held Nate’s knee up so Brad had room to move the way they both liked.

Nate kept his face turned to Brad’s as he met each of Brad’s slow thrusts. They watched one another’s expressions through hooded eyes and moved forcefully against each other. Brad slid himself in and out of Nate’s warm body with slow and steady thrusts of his hips. With each movement back he felt the heat recede from his cock and from his belly where it no longer touched Nate’s back. As he slid himself back inside the heat enveloped him, surrounded him until he was flush against Nate once again.

Brad watched as Nate bit down gently on his own lower lip. He had a strong urge to lean down and nibble on that lip but Nate distracted him by pushing backward a little more forcefully into Brad’s hips. He gave in to his own natural inclination to push into Nate with equal force. He loved seeing that expression on Nate’s face. The look of total concentration and pleasure that only appeared when Brad fucked him slow.

That thought had him speeding up his movements. Harder and faster he moved himself against Nate’s body.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Brad, fuck!” Nate suddenly cried out, hands clutching at the bed, as he seemed to try to crawl away from Brad.

Brad froze instantly. “What? Did I hurt you?” he asked, heart pounding in fear.

Nate relaxed against him again. “I wouldn’t say hurt exactly,” Nate breathed. “Just really fucking intense.”

Brad smiled in relief. “Oh, sorry about that.” He grasped Nate’s knee again and adjusted his angle so that he just glanced across Nate’s prostate, instead of hammering directly against it.

Brad dropped his hand from Nate’s knee to his swollen cock and began to stroke it.

Nate groaned loudly at the change in Brad’s touch but his teeth stayed buried in his lower lip. Brad gave in to temptation and lowered his head to nibble at the corner of Nate’s mouth. Nate released his lip and took Brad’s mouth in a kiss, sweeping his tongue over Brad’s own lower lip.

Brad stroked Nate’s cock rapidly as they kissed. Nate pulled back suddenly with a gasp, which told Brad he was getting close. Nate picked up the pace of their thrusts. As Brad stroked his erection, Nate frenetically moved against him.

“Are you close?” Brad whispered against Nate’s lips.

“Yes,” Nate moaned in response.

Brad increased his rhythm on Nate’s cock. He stilled his hips slightly so he could concentrate on bringing Nate over. It didn’t take long.

“Fuck, Brad I’m coming,” Nate groaned through gritted teeth.

“I know,” Brad whispered. “Let it go.”

And Nate did. With a shout he thrust himself once more into Brad’s hand and his hot come shot up over his own belly. Brad stroked him until he felt Nate’s shivers subside and the muscles clenching his cock relax.

Brad slid his hand under Nate’s arm and curled it up around his shoulder in order to hold him close. With a desperate thrust, Brad began to move himself in and out of Nate’s heat once again. He felt his own breath coming in gasps against Nate’s cheek. The pressure was building in his balls and he knew he was getting close. Brad gave two more hard thrusts into Nate’s welcoming body when he felt his climax overtake him.

He barely heard Nate whisper, “Come inside me, Brad. I like to feel you come inside of me.”

Brad was already obliging him but the softly spoken words against his lips made his cock pulse a little harder. He groaned and gasped into Nate’s mouth as he shuddered his release deep inside of Nate’s body.

When his muscles relaxed their hold on him, Brad sagged down against Nate and they breathed heavily against one another for several minutes. They clung to each other in the afterglow, each occasionally opening his eyes to gaze at the other. Each time their eyes met they smiled.

~*~

Brad had no idea what Nate’s mood was going to be when he got home. This was the day. His Department Head was meeting with Nate and the professor that had unfairly scored his paper. The intent was to have Nate and the professor come to an amicable agreement without the Head having to mandate their behavior. Nate only wanted what was fair but he didn’t hold out hope for a positive outcome. His fears went beyond the grade on his paper. He was afraid his professor was going to be given free rein to harass and fail him in the class.

Brad decided his best bet was to wait for Nate to get home and see what his mood was and go from there.

He heard the garage open so he headed for the door. He didn’t get there before Nate was bursting through, tossing aside his books. Brad wondered how his laptop had survived all these years.

He was knocked backward a few steps when Nate launched himself into Brad’s arms.

“I got an ‘A’!” Nate declared, arms wrapped around Brad’s neck. “The Department Head changed my grade and censured my professor for ridiculing me in the lecture hall!”

Brad wrapped his arms around Nate and held him close. He fucking loved this. He loved that Nate rushed home to share his triumphs and his worries with him. He loved the feel of Nate pressed against him. He loved the scent of his own soap and shampoo on Nate’s skin and hair.

How the fuck was Brad going to let him go when the time came?

“That’s fucking great,” Brad enthused, meaning it. “I’m happy for you. I’m so proud.”

Nate pulled back and Brad found himself involved in a hard, deep kiss.

“Thank you for your help.”

“What the fuck did I do?”

Nate looked up at Brad, his smile wide and bright. Brad’s gut clenched. The things that smile did to him. He couldn’t get enough of seeing it.

“You let me rant and worry and gripe. You convinced me to do what I thought was right and not just easy and then you were just _there_ whenever I had doubts. I doubted myself but you never did and I just kept pushing so I would be the man you think I am.”

“I just see the man you are,” Brad replied quietly, suddenly unable to meet Nate’s intense gaze.

“You seem to see something I don’t feel, then. If I hadn’t wanted you to be proud of me, I probably would have taken the ‘F’ and kept my head down until graduation.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too.”

Nate kissed him again and Brad felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest. He could hardly breathe.

“The best part is; the final exam has to be changed from essay to multiple-choice so it can be graded by a neutral party to ensure I get a final grade I deserve.”

“You didn’t just win the battle,” Brad said, heart bursting at Nate’s joy. “You won the whole fucking war.”

Nate was suddenly kissing his way down Brad’s neck. His mouth was wet and hot and he kept flicking his tongue over Brad’s skin.

“I only know of one way to thank you,” Nate’s whisper was gravelly against Brad’s throat.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Brad answered, his dick already wanting to experience Nate’s gratitude.

“I want to. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to want this because you enjoy it, not because you think it’s something I want.”

“I want this. I want you. I can’t get enough of you.”

Brad had heard enough. He grabbed Nate’s shirt and all but dragged him toward the bedroom, kissing him along the way.

“If I can have anything I want,” Brad said in between kisses. “I want your mouth on me. I enjoy the way you suck my cock.”

“Good, cause I love to suck you off,” Nate said eagerly. “You make some of the best sounds I’ve ever heard.”

Brad barely had time to be amused that Nate appreciated something in him that he also adored in Nate before he was being sensually assaulted by Nate’s mouth and hands. Brad’s tank top was tugged over his head and Nate’s t-shirt joined it on the floor. Nate kicked his shoes from his feet as he pushed Brad back down the hallway to the bedroom.

As they reached the doorway, Nate unfastened the fly of his own jeans but didn’t push them down. He unfastened Brad’s jeans and nudged him until the backs of his legs met the edge of the bed. Brad sat down heavily and Nate knelt to slide his jeans down over his hips.

He thought Nate would just go down on him right then and there, kneeling between his legs. Brad was surprised, but still pretty excited, when Nate urged him upward to lie down on the bed.

Nate was already between his legs and digging for a condom as Brad settled himself down. His hard cock was encased in latex before he knew what was happening and then wet heat surrounded him.

“Oh fuck,” Brad hissed harshly, his brain struggling to catch up to what was being done to his body.

He glanced down himself and watched as Nate’s head bobbed over his dick. The suction was intense and Nate cupped and rolled his balls as he swirled his tongue over and around Brad’s cock.

Brad was surprised and a little embarrassed when he realized he was on the verge of coming. What was he? A fucking thirteen-year-old?

“Slow down, Nate,” he gasped in desperation. “You’re gonna make me come.”

Nate hummed briefly then pulled off with a wet slurp. “Don’t move, I wanna try something.”

Brad lay back on his pillow and focused on his breathing. He felt Nate slide off the bed but he just stared up at the ceiling and willed discipline back into his dick. Nate was back between his legs a moment later, reaching into the bedside table. When he had what he was looking for, he ran his hands up the insides of Brad’s thighs.

A moment later when he felt Nate’s mouth slide down the entire length of his cock, Brad groaned and convulsed slightly, his upper body coming off the bed.

“Fuck,” he hissed, sucking air in through his teeth. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Nate worked Brad’s cock with his hand and his mouth. He reached again for Brad’s balls and cradled them, rolling them gently. He moved fast, sucking hard and dragging the flat of his tongue along the underside of Brad’s shaft. That warm feeling started in the base of his spine and again he felt his balls rise up in spite of Nate’s hand.

Brad stared up at the ceiling again, breathing harshly through his nose. He tried to focus on something other than Nate’s fantastic mouth but it was fucking impossible.

“Goddamn it,” Brad swore harshly. “I’m gonna fucking come.”

Nate pulled off and ran his hands up and down Brad’s thighs. “Is everything okay?” he asked with trepidation.

“With the exception of the fact I’m acting like a horny teenager getting my dick touched for the first time; it’s all good,” Brad said sarcastically.

“I know something that might help,” Nate said hesitantly.

“Anything,” Brad said with great frustration. “At this point I’ll try anything.”

“Do you trust me?” Nate asked uncertainly.

Brad looked at him sharply. “Of course.” He did. Brad really did trust Nate.

“Relax, don’t touch your dick,” Nate instructed and Brad heard the snick of the lube bottle open. “Keep your feet on the bed.”

Brad followed the orders given to him without hesitation. He felt Nate strip the condom off of his cock.

“This is going to be very intense, Brad,” Nate warned. “But it’ll help.”

Brad felt Nate slide two well-lubed fingers into his ass. He took a deep breath at the intrusion and relaxed around Nate’s hand.

“Oh fuck!” Brad cried out when Nate’s two fingers curled upward and pressed hard against his prostate. Nate pressed and rubbed harder than Brad had ever felt before. He was relentless. Brad fisted the bedspread to keep from reaching up and grabbing hold of Nate. “Christ, what the fuck?”

It didn’t exactly hurt but Brad felt it in his entire body. Shockwaves of sensation roiled through his pelvis and up his spine. Brad’s dick twitched violently against his belly and he felt like he was about to come, but not really.

“Easy, Brad,” Nate said serenely. “Just ride it out. Let it happen. I’ve got you.”

Nate kept his fingers pressed hard and rubbed roughly against Brad’s prostate. Brad knew he was about to come, but still it felt different. His balls weren’t rising. The entire climax felt like it was building from the inside exclusively.

When Brad came, he released an inarticulate, guttural cry. His body folded up with the intensity of it and his vision grayed around the edges. He felt a warm fluid coat his belly but he felt absolutely nothing in his balls.

When Nate stopped pressing on his prostate, Brad collapsed against the bed. He lay breathing heavily, struggling to control the tremors in his limbs. Nate carefully slid his fingers from Brad’s ass. He lay limp on the bed wondering what the fuck had just happened.

Brad lifted his head in time to see Nate wiping away a clear fluid from his belly. His cock was still angry and hard but he didn’t feel the desperate need to come any longer.

“What … in the fuck … did you do to me?” Brad asked.

Nate’s face was shuttered and he didn’t meet Brad’s eyes as he answered. “It’s called ‘sissy milking’. It’ll help you control your orgasm.”

Brad watched Nate as he took care of Brad, cleaned him up and calmed him down. Nate still wouldn’t look at him, as if he was afraid of Brad’s reaction.

“I don’t give a fuck where you learned that,” Brad said with all sincerity. “I’m just glad you did.”

Nate smiled at him then and Brad couldn’t have been more pleased.

“Let’s get back to the business at hand,” Nate said, tearing open a fresh condom. He rolled it down Brad’s still-hard cock.

“Oh yeah,” Brad sighed when Nate swallowed him down this time. “That’s more like it.”

This time, when Nate sucked him, Brad could relax and enjoy it. Nate’s mouth and his hand worked Brad’s cock and he comfortably flexed his hips and pressed himself upward and deeper into Nate’s throat.

When Brad first felt something pressing against his hole, he thought it was Nate’s finger. When a single object slid into him abruptly, he had no idea what the hell it was.

“Nate …” he started to say.

“Trust me, Brad,” Nate said, pulling off his cock briefly. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Brad knew that. He realized it was the unknown he didn’t trust. He tried to relax.

When a second object slid into him, Brad had to admit it felt pretty good. A third object penetrated his ass and he started to feel a little full.

“Anal beads,” Brad sighed and Nate hummed a laugh around his dick.

When the entire strand was inside of Brad’s ass, Nate redoubled his efforts on his cock. He gently rocked the strand of beads back and forth as he sucked hard on Brad’s cock.

This time, when Brad started to come, he felt it in his balls. This orgasm rolled over him slowly. Fucking Nate chose that moment to tug the bead strand from Brad’s ass and suddenly, Brad was arching up from the bed and shouting.

For the second time that night, Brad fell back and lay bonelessly on the bed. He probably even dozed briefly.

Warm fluid landing on Brad’s chest and belly brought him around. He became aware of the bed shuddering slightly beneath him. He opened his eyes in time to see Nate finish stroking himself off and coming on top of Brad’s body.

“That can’t have been very satisfying,” Brad remarked. “I would have helped you with that.”

Nate’s smile was wide. “Jacking off on your limp body, after I made you lose consciousness twice in one night, was fucking fantastic.”

Nate collapsed down beside Brad, both of them breathing heavily.

“I should clean up,” Brad observed, his words slurred as he neared sleep.

“I should help,” Nate murmured, not far behind.

As Brad drifted into sleep he realized he was going to be sticky with dried come and getting the condom off was going to be hell.

He couldn’t be bothered to care.

~*~

“Can you teach me to jet ski sometime this summer?” Nate asked one night. He was just a few weeks from graduation and lately, he’d begun to talk about things he wanted to do over the summer. He confessed to Brad that he’d never had a summer to himself. Nate said it was because he always had a class or two he needed to take. He left it unsaid that summers would have been active on his street corner and Nate needed to make money all year round.

“We jet ski a lot during the summer,” Brad replied, shutting away the darker thoughts. “The weather is just warming up so we’re about to start up again. Sometimes we go to the lake. Sometimes we drive out and camp at the river.”

“I would love to try that.” Nate’s eyes were alight with anticipation.

“Then you’ll have to come along.” A thrill ran up Brad’s spine and he struggled not to let his show on his face when he realized that that Nate was going to be around for the summer. He seemed to want to make plans that included Brad.

“What else do you usually do during the summer?” Nate asked.

“Sometimes we rent a beach house and have surf weekends. Do you surf?”

“No, I never learned. Could you teach me that, too?”

“If you want.” The more Nate planned for the future, the happier Brad felt.

~*~

“Round up your college boy and have him pull his shorty out of the back of the closet,” Espera called as he led a group of Marines into the hangar. “It’s jet ski Saturday, this weekend.”

“He’s never jet ski’d so I doubt he has a wetsuit but I’ll check with him.” Brad felt a moment’s concern for a Saturday activity. Could and would Nate take a weekend off from working?

“There are gonna be some broken hearts this summer,” Pappy said.

“How’s that, Pap?” Rudy asked.

“All the young ladies that come out trying to catch Iceman’s eye are gonna find he’s well and truly hooked,” Pappy replied with a smirk. “All the kids that use his spare jet ski are gonna be shit outta luck.”

“You might wanna teach Nate some basic self defense in case any of those disappointed ladies contemplates trying to get him out of the way,” Ray crowed.

“You haven’t seen women around Nate,” Brad said with a smile. “They’ll be making him lunch and rubbing sunscreen on him all day. He’ll have them eating out of his hand.”

Espera smiled. “In that case, _you_ better not bring your side arm.”

~*~

Brad prepared dinner while Nate studied. He’d have preferred having Nate sit at the kitchen table while he cooked, teasing and criticizing in jest. Instead, he’d packed Nate off to Brad’s small office, hoping the solitude would help ease Nate’s pensive mood.

There was no one thing Nate said or did that set Brad on edge; it just seemed that Nate had grown distracted and distant for the course of the last week. It was subtle, but it had gone on long enough that Brad had noticed. He noticed and now he was watching closely for other signs of impending doom.

A sudden thought made Brad’s blood run cold in his veins. He felt sick as he wondered if this was it; was Nate getting ready to completely walk away? Dread curled into a tight knot in Brad’s gut.

He was at a loss for how to handle this and, as a man of action, his sense of impotence compounded his fear of losing Nate. Did Brad step it up and try to make it impossible for Nate to leave? Or did he just get the fuck out of the way and let Nate get on with his life?

When Brad called him to dinner, Nate’s mood seemed cheerful. He teased Brad and flirted with his typical witty manner. Brad almost forgot that he’d ever been worried at all.

“We’re going jet skiing this Saturday.” Brad said into a comfortable, if extended silence. “Do you own a wetsuit or do we have to get you one?”

When Nate didn’t answer, Brad looked over at him. He was staring off into space. 

“Nate,” Brad said gently and was surprised to see him start.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking.” Nate seemed to try to shake off his dark mood.

“We’re going jet skiing Saturday. You wanted to come, right?”

“Saturday?”

Nate’s hesitance made Brad grind his back teeth in frustration. “Yeah. We’re usually out all day so you working might not be practical. I guess you’ll have to choose.” He hadn’t _really_ meant for that to sound so bitter.

“Do you want me to go this Saturday?” Nate asked inscrutably.

“The guys are looking forward to seeing you again.” If Nate was going to hold himself back, then so was Brad.

“But do _you_ want me to go?” Nate pressed.

“Nate, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t.” Brad knew he sounded short tempered. He couldn’t put his feelings out there just to have Nate reject them.

“I have to go down there Friday for a little while, at least.” Nate almost seemed to be pleading with Brad for understanding. “I can’t be away from work for two full weeks. I’ll just cut it short Friday night and take Saturday off.”

Of course, Brad thought. That street corner was like an addiction for Nate and Brad just wasn’t enough incentive for him to kick the habit completely. “That’s fine, whatever. Do you own any kind of wetsuit?”

“No, I’ve never needed one.”

“The ambient temperature is pretty warm now but the water temp tends to still be cold so you’ll need one. We'll go shopping for you tomorrow. You should be able to get a good deal; the season is ending.”

“Okay. Sure.”

Brad stopped trying to start a conversation with Nate during dinner. His mind was clearly somewhere else and Brad wondered how much longer it would be before it never drifted back to him at all.

~*~

Brad came awake, instantly alert. Something was wrong. His situational awareness spiked and he was immediately ready to take action. He listened carefully, struggling to hear past the hammering of his own heart, but not detecting anything alarming. It was quiet. It was _too_ quiet. He glanced to the bed beside him. Nate should be there breathing softly in the dark, but he wasn’t. Brad felt the sheets and they were cold.

Slipping from beneath the covers, Brad checked the bathroom. There was no sign of Nate. He walked quietly down the hall. When he reached the living room, he saw Nate across the room. He was sitting curled up in the window seat, staring forlornly out the window.

He desperately wanted to know what had Nate so worried that he was losing sleep, but he was afraid of the answer. Not so long ago, Nate had turned to him for both comfort and for celebration, and it frightened Brad that he wouldn’t do that now. He wanted to lend Nate the support he seemed to need but feared he was going to be the one in need of comforting by the end of the conversation.

Brad silently backed down the hallway and crawled into bed. He lay in the dark, unable to sleep, wondering if Nate was going to return to bed.

When he finally did, the ache in Brad’s chest eased as Nate wrapped himself around Brad and buried his face in his neck with a heavy sigh. Brad welcomed him openly and held him close. He breathed in Nate’s scent and committed it to memory for the day he wouldn’t be able to do this anymore.

~*~

“College boy!” the Marines called out in unison as Nate exited Brad’s truck.

“Devil Dogs!” Nate shouted in return and Brad couldn’t help but smile.

There wasn’t much to learn about jet skiing anymore, now that single-rider stand-ups had been replaced by the multi-rider sit-downs. It was pretty much all about how to operate the watercraft and how to be safe. Brad watched Nate listen intently to Rudy’s and Pappy’s instructions as Ray and Walt helped him into his brand new shorty.

Brad raised an eyebrow when they zipped him in; Nate had one nice ass in the wetsuit.

Anytime anyone climbed on a ski for the first time, it was a comedy of errors. Nate was no exception for all that he did catch on quickly. Still, most everyone was doubled over with laughter and Brad had to keep retrieving a drifting Nate before he finally seemed ready to ride.

He learned quickly and kept his sense of humor about him the entire time. His smile was quick and his jokes self-deprecating and Brad enjoyed every moment they were on the water together. He almost wanted Nate to fall in just so he could hear his laugh when he surfaced.

By the time they were headed back to shore, he was trying his hand at wake jumping and had mastered a few of the tighter turns Brad had demonstrated.

They were drinking water and contemplating where to ride to when Brad noticed Nate surrounded by a group of girls. ‘Girls’ was an accurate term, too. They all stood around with hips cocked to the side and giggled in unison at the slightest provocation. The oldest might be eighteen and Brad knew the youngest was fourteen. They had collectively formed the ‘Nate Fick Fan Club’.

Brad watched Nate carefully for any positive reaction to the girls. He didn’t think he saw any but it still didn’t prevent him from diving straight into a dark mood.

A hard punch to his arm brought him back to reality. He glanced down to see Poke smiling up at him knowingly.

“Don’t worry about it, dog. He ain’t got eyes for anybody but you.”

“Just wait’ll their older sisters try the same routine on Brad. It’s gonna end in tears.” Pappy declared.

“Why is that?” Brad asked.

“Cause you’ll reject one of them, without knowing it, and she’ll try to figure out _why_ you’re not interested. Then she’ll come face-to-face with the sexual tension that just pours off you and Nate and then we’re gonna have to spend the rest of the day listening to how _‘it’s such a waste’_.”

“Why don’t we get the fuck out of here before that happens?” Brad suggested.

“Remember that inlet we found last we were here?” Rudy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Think you can find it again?”

Brad retrieved his GPS from his truck and they began to load the skis with water and food for an extended ride.

When he glanced over at Nate again, he saw him deep in conversation with Ray. Nate’s features were tense and fixed in the stubborn expression Brad had come to know well. He was shaking his head emphatically.

Ray was speaking to Nate, his posture and expression intense, as if trying to convince Nate of something. They weren’t arguing and it didn’t look as though they weren’t getting along. But it was significant, whatever it was.

He wanted to ask Nate what it was about but figured he’d tell him if he wanted him to know.

Brad found the hidden inlet easily with the GPS and when they found the wide, still body of water, everyone began to stir it up with their favorite tricks. It wasn’t long before informal competitions and challenges broke out between everyone and shouts and insults could be heard.

Nate was nowhere near the skill level to participate so he and Brad beached their skis. They stripped out of their wetsuits and sat on the backs of their skis to watch everyone’s antics.

Brad glanced over at Nate to see him looking interestedly over his shoulder at a break in the reeds and cliff behind them.

“Do you know where that goes?” Nate asked.

“Not for sure.” Brad consulted his GPS. “It looks like it narrows significantly but probably comes out on the lakeshore again.”

“Feel like exploring?” Nate asked with a mischievous smile.

“I’m game if you are.”

Nate slipped his water shoes back onto his feet. Brad followed suit. Nate led the way into the crevice and Brad followed him in, keeping close and admiring the dimples in Nate’s back just above his swim trunks.

They picked their way quickly over rocks and through running water. The crevice bent slightly to the right and as they followed it around the sounds of the jet ski riders fell away. Brad could just about imagine he and Nate were the only two people left in the world.

“Do you know what any of these plants are?” Nate asked, skirting a large grouping of grasses.

“Just common grasses found near rivers and lakes in North America,” Brad answered. “They help prevent erosion.”

Nate snorted. “You sound like you’re reading a Wikipedia page.”

Brad huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “More like a USMC survival training manual.”

“Memorized it, did you?”

“Careful, Nate, you’re envy is showing.”

Nate chucked appreciatively. “Think we could climb up?” he asked, gesturing up the sheer mud hill beside them.

“Too unstable,” Brad remarked. “Play a lot of ‘king of the hill’ as a kid?”

“Maybe I just like scaling tall things,” Nate fired back, shooting Brad a suggestive look over his shoulder.

Brad grinned down at him. “I guess I make it too easy for you by lying down.”

Nate huffed a laugh in response and Brad felt his grin grow wider.

The walls narrowed in on them as they walked until there was just enough space for Brad to pass.

The breeze was blocked and the heat quickly became stifling. Brad glanced down and spotted rivulets of sweat running down Nate’s spine. The urge to lean down and lick the moisture from his skin didn’t surprise Brad. He’d grown used to the immediate and powerful reaction his body had to Nate. The jolt of arousal that shot down his spine and into his groin still managed to steal his breath.

Nate stopped and Brad pulled up mere inches behind him. He could smell Nate’s sweat and the heat rolling off of his body in waves.

“If we go any further you’ll get stuck,” Nate said and Brad could hear the laughter in his voice.

He didn’t reply.

Nate turned around and Brad saw the surprise in his eyes when he was faced with Brad’s chest. When Nate glanced up at him, questions in his eyes, Brad wrapped both hands around his head and pulled him in for kiss. Nate went willingly, his arms winding around Brad’s back and pulling their bodies together tightly.

Brad pushed his tongue into Nate’s mouth and teased him; pulling back and making Nate’s tongue chase his. Nate sealed their mouths together, open wide and licking at each other like junkies chasing a fix. Brad was breathing heavily but he realized: so was Nate.

Brad released Nate’s head and reached down to grasp his hips. He pulled Nate in closer and ground up against him. Nate pressed back hard, meeting Brad thrust for thrust. He could feel Nate was hard; just as hard as he was. Their cocks pressed together, almost painfully and Nate moaned into Brad’s mouth.

He had to touch Nate. Brad couldn’t just stand there humping. He shoved his hand roughly into Nate’s shorts and found his erection. Brad shoved Nate’s shorts down and tugged his dick out into the open air and stroked it roughly. Nate gasped against his lips.

The sounds of Brad’s fellow Marines seemed closer now. He was only vaguely aware their calls and shouts seemed just outside the opening to the crevice he and Nate had explored. Maybe they were done skiing. Maybe they were exploring, like he and Nate were. Maybe they were searching for Brad and Nate.

He didn’t really give a fuck when he felt Nate’s hand in his shorts, wrapping around his hard cock. Brad felt himself exposed to the hot, motionless air when Nate tugged him out of his own shorts. It felt almost cool on his sweat-slick skin.

Brad could hear voices and shouts seemingly closer now. He couldn’t stop himself, though. He continued to stroke Nate’s dick, flexing his hips against Nate’s fist as he squeezed and rubbed Brad’s cock. He knew they should stop. He knew it would be bad if the guys came around the bend in the crevice and found two of them jerking each other off.

Still, the danger of discovery sent a surge of blood rushing to Brad’s cock. His hips stuttered in their rhythm against Nate. The voices were so close now, Brad could imagine he and Nate were moments from discovery as his orgasm built in his spine and rolled through him in rising waves. Even as he felt his balls force out the first pulse of come, Nate’s cock twitched in his hand.

Brad grunted as he came, relief spiraling through him. At the same time, he felt his fist coated with Nate’s warm spunk as he strangled a cry in the back of his throat. Brad clutched at Nate with his free hand and one word spiraled through his brain as he came against Nate’s hand; _stay_.

The voices seemed to recede now. If they’d been discovered, no one said anything. Maybe they’d come so far and decided Brad and Nate weren’t down here. Maybe it had all been Brad’s admittedly vivid and raunchy imagination.

Nate knelt and rinsed his hand in the water running at their feet. Brad did the same, finally rising to stand on shaky legs. Without a word, he pulled Nate into his arms and simply held him close, sweat pooling between their bodies in the still heat.

He didn’t know how, but Brad was going to have to find a way to convince Nate to stay after his graduation. He’d have to find a way to make Nate want to stay in town and with Brad.

Regardless of Nate’s plans, Brad wasn’t going to be able to let him go. Ever.


	10. The Point of Oblivion

Brad set his foot down, but didn’t shift his weight forward. He listened and looked. He saw only his fellow Marines around him and he heard nothing. Brad eased his weight forward, rolling it from heel to toe.

One more silent step taken.

Pfc. Christesen, Lance Cpl. Trombley, and Cpl. Stafford all accompanied Brad on this training mission. They were the least experienced, for all they were very highly trained Recon Marines. Brad had spent the week training and drilling them hard.

Tonight was their final exam.

The objective was simple and it was pass or fail. They either got in and out of the structure in front of them undetected by Pappy, Ray, and Kocher; or they were caught, and training resumed next week.

They reached the sand dunes outside of their objective and just as he’d trained them to do, each Marine took cover silently and strategically.

Brad assessed their surroundings and determined it was safe to proceed. He was just about to signal his team to move forward when the training ground floodlights lit up the entire area.

Brad swore under his breath. Something had gone wrong. If he and his team had been detected, shouting Marines would have surrounded them. Lt. Wynn would only have illuminated the grounds for something serious.

“Sgt. Colbert!” Wynn called through his bullhorn. Brad looked up to see the Lieutenant wave him toward the command Humvee.

Brad handed off his NVG’s to Stafford, gripped his weapon tighter and jogged toward his CO.

When he was close enough to speak to, Wynn exited the victor and asked Brad, “Sergeant, do you know a University student named Nate Fick?”

The world fell out from beneath Brad’s feet and took his stomach with it.

“I do, sir,” Brad answered. “He stays with me periodically when he needs a quiet place to study.”

“The police said he has no family in town which is why he asked for you to be located,” Wynn said, and Brad noticed the PFC standing flush-faced by the rear of the Humvee.

“That’s correct, sir.” Brad swallowed hard against his fear. “Please, sir … what’s happened to Nate?”

“Details are sketchy,” Wynn answered, handing Brad the slip of paper the PFC must have run out to the training grounds. “He seems to have been caught in the crossfire of a shooting downtown. The police want you to be assured he is okay, though.”

Brad’s hand shook as he took the paper from Wynn and he hoped no one noticed.

“Obviously training is halted for the evening,” the Lieutenant continued. “Hop in and we’ll run you to your personal vehicle so you can get to the hospital.”

“Sir,” Brad said in surprise. “Nate doesn’t qualify as immediate family.”

“Christ, Brad,” Wynn said impatiently. “A civilian is injured and has no family to look to him so he needs your help and you think I’m gonna hold you here?”

Brad didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t thought of it in those terms.

Pappy approached the Humvee and Brad handed off his weapon. “Sgt. Patrick, close up the training for the night and secure the gear.”

“Roger that,” Pappy replied without question as Brad slid into the back seat of the Humvee.

~*~

Brad raced through traffic on his motorcycle until he skidded to a stop in the parking lot of University Hospital. Following the signs, he bypassed the ambulance bay and found the sliding doors for pedestrians.

The nurse in scrubs behind the Plexiglas barrier directed Brad to a locked door that buzzed as he reached it. Another nurse stepped through and gestured him in. She led Brad down a corridor to a curtained cubicle. Sitting on the hospital bed behind the curtain, was Nate. Three people surrounded him in a surreal scene and he looked so small and so young. Brad’s heart clenched.

The woman standing behind Nate saw Brad and put her hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Your Marine is here,” she said softly.

Nate’s head turned slowly in Brad’s direction until their eyes met. The first thing he noticed was that Nate was doped to the gills. The second thing he noticed was that Nate’s eyes were filled with a soul-crushing sadness. Brad ached to go to him, pull Nate into his arms and take away that sadness but he was very aware of their audience.

“Officer Matlin,” said the female cop suddenly standing in front of Brad, hand extended.

“Brad Colbert,” he replied woodenly, shaking her hand. He had difficulty taking his eyes off Nate.

“Nate’s going to be just fine, Sgt. Colbert,” said the doctor working on Nate’s left shoulder. “You can take him home as soon as the police are finished speaking with him.”

Brad realized in that moment what was so odd about this tableau; all three people surrounding Nate were women. And, they were hovering. They were _doting_.  Brad was going to have a field day with this just as soon as they got past the horror of whatever had happened tonight.

“What happened?” Brad finally had the presence of mind to ask the police officer.

“Apparently, Nate was downtown for a Friday night of fun. It’s pretty common for the kids from the University to congregate down there. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she explained. “Someone opened fire on the street on which he was standing. The young man next to him was killed and probably knocked Nate to the ground as he fell. Nate took one round in the shoulder and a good bump to the head, but he’s going to be fine, the doctor tells us.”

The doctor and the nurse were bandaging Nate’s shoulder now, and the doctor picked up the narrative. “The round didn’t go very deep; I was able to remove it with just a local anesthetic.”

The officer held up a plastic bag that contained a slightly mushroomed bullet.

“It was relatively undamaged,” the doctor continued. “This makes me think it passed through the young man who was killed before lodging in Nate’s shoulder.”

“So blood loss was minor,” Brad concluded and the doctor nodded her agreement. “He struck his head, though?”

“If he has a concussion at all, it’s very minor,” she replied. “He was alert and oriented from his first assessment on scene so we gave him something for his pain.”

“Okay,” Brad said, absorbing this all as rapidly as he would the changing events of combat.

“Ordinarily I’d keep him overnight,” the doctor continued, smiling at Brad. “But you’ve probably got training to deal with just these types of injuries, plus Nate tells us the two of you are friends with your company medic.”

“Yes,” Brad concurred.

Officer Matlin addressed herself to Brad again, “A Homicide Detective is on her way to interview Nate, but it shouldn’t take long. He didn’t see anything; he was caught in the crossfire of something that didn’t involve him.”

Brad new that was the farthest thing from the truth but he was thankful they weren’t going to have to lie their way out of Nate being labeled a prostitute.

“He’s all set,” the doctor declared. “As soon as the police are done with him, you can get him out of here.”

“Thank you,” Brad said as they all left the cubicle. He crossed to stand in front of Nate; wanting to reach out and touch him but not sure if he could do so without hurting him.

“They killed Kit,” Nate whispered brokenly so that only Brad could hear.

Brad wrapped his hands around Nate’s skull and pulled him in close. He lowered his head and whispered against Nate’s ear, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” he said against Brad’s chest. “I just didn’t know who else to have them call.”

“I’m glad you had them call me,” Brad spoke against Nate’s hair.

Brad’s cell phone chose that moment to vibrate in his pocket. “Fuck,” he whispered harshly. Taking it out, he saw the display read ‘Person’. Just fucking wonderful. He knew he had to answer or Ray would just keep trying to call.

“What?” Brad said shortly.

“Dude, Wynn said Nate was in the hospital. What the fuck?”

“He’s fine,” Brad said with less heat this time. “I’m with him now.”

“Yeah, well thanks for telling us before you high tailed it. You know you’re not the only one who likes the kid. I’m almost at the hospital. You in the E.R.?”

“Ray, no,” Brad protested. “I’ve got it under control.”

“Do you really?” Ray shot back. “They letting you take him home?”

“As soon as the police are done questioning him.”

“Police? Christ, Brad, is he in trouble?”

“No. Potential witness.”

“Okay, then. So, how you gonna get him home? Bungee him to the back of your bike?”

Brad squeezed his eyes shut and sighed in frustration. He’d been in such a fucking hurry to get to Nate he hadn’t thought everything through.

“Right. Ray-Ray to the rescue. I’m almost there.”

Brad pocketed his cell phone again. He placed a kiss on the top of Nate’s head. “Ray will be here soon.”

Nate sat up abruptly. “No, no. I don’t want a crowd.”

“I only have my bike. He’s got a car to get you home comfortably.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“I know. I won’t let him stay more than a few minutes. I have a few things I need to tell you, too.”

Nate nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m just glad you weren’t hurt any worse.”

“Like Kit?”

“Yeah. I am sorry about that.”

“Can I stay with you tonight? Please?”

“I said I was taking you _home_, Nate; home with me.” Brad felt a firm tug at his heart. “You didn’t think I meant that little cracker box of a dorm room we need to move you out of?”

“I’m so confused. I keep mixing up what I know, what I think, and what I want.”

“I know. We’ll both get squared away tonight.”

Brad could just begin to hear Ray talking his way into the cubicle area.

“He’s my Sergeant, what can I do? He needs a ride, I give him a ride. Nate’s a good kid, though. Him I don’t mind playing soccer mom for.”

 Brad stepped back from Nate reluctantly as a nurse appeared around the curtain, Ray trailing behind her.

“I assume you know him?” the nurse asked Brad.

“Unfortunately,” Brad said dryly. “Thank you.”

Ray stepped closer to Nate’s bed, suddenly uncharacteristically subdued.

“You gonna be okay, Nate?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Ray.”

Nate’s doctor chose that moment to come back in. She gave Ray a double take, then smiled at Nate. “They’re multiplying. I’m jealous.”

Nate managed a smile for her. “Ray’s up for grabs but Brad’s off limits.”

“Oh, I know,” the doctor said.

Brad froze at Nate’s words, becoming very aware of the doctor’s sly smile and Ray discretely staring at his boots. It had to be the drugs. Nate was probably unaware of what he was saying.

“Okay, Nate,” the doctor said. “No driving for the next week. Any signs of dizziness or nausea, have your Marine bring you in.” She handed him a small white bag. “More pain meds. Take one every four hours as needed.” The doctor turned toward Brad. “Are you getting this? Cause he’s stoned already.”

“Yes,” Brad assured her.

“You need your wound cleaned and re-bandaged in about two days. If your Marine can handle it, great, if not, come in and we’ll get you taken care of.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nate said placidly.

They all turned as someone came around the edge of the curtain. A man and a woman, each wearing a suit, regarded them all sternly.

“Nate Fick?” the woman asked, looking directly at Nate.

“Yeah,” he answered tiredly.

The woman stepped forward. “I’m Detective Emily Spencer,” she said politely. “I’m with Homicide. This is my partner, Detective Aaron Long.”

“Let’s get out of the way and let the police work,” the doctor said as she left the curtained area. Ray also stepped out into the hall.

Brad moved around to stand behind Nate. He stood tall and crossed his arms over is chest, daring anyone to try and make him leave.

“Who did this, and why Nate?” Brad asked, trying to get a read on the detectives.

The woman, Detective Spencer, looked him in the eye with a direct and friendly gaze.

“We don’t know. Vice has given us some information on local pimps who are actively trying to round up some of the free-lancing male prostitutes in the area. It’s gotten violent in the last year. In fact, the kid who was killed was victimized previously, along with another young man, just a few months ago.”

Brad arranged his features into a mask, using it to hide the fact that he and Nate had been involved in that incident. “Will you catch them?”

“I seriously doubt it, but we’re going to try. We’ll work with Vice and exchange information but we most likely won’t be able to identify the shooter, or the pimp responsible for the attack. I also fear things like this are going to continue to happen until all the free-lancers hook up with a pimp, flee, or are killed.”

Brad nodded his understanding.

Detective Spencer turned her attention to Nate.

“Now, I know you already told Officer Matlin what happened, but can you walk me through it again to make sure we got everything and I understand it accurately?”

Brad listened as Nate told them he was just looking to let off a little steam on a Friday night after four years of hard work and a week before graduating into the real world. He was on that particular corner at that particular moment trying to decide if he wanted to sit down for dinner or grab something quick further up the street.

He heard five loud, sharp cracks. Something slammed into his shoulder. A body fell into him, toppling him to the ground. He was stunned for several moments, probably from striking his head.

People stopped to pull the body from on top of him. They tried to stop his bleeding. The police arrived. The paramedics arrived. They found his I.D. in his jeans. They brought him to the hospital where the nice ladies gave him something for the pain.

“What’s your birth date again, Nate?” Detective Spencer asked without segue.

Nate rattled off the date without hesitation.

Brad watched the Detective smile slightly and hand Nate his University I.D. He smiled inwardly at her subtle verification that Nate was older than he looked.

“Just before this happened,” Detective Spencer asked. “Did you see anyone looking suspicious?”

“Nothing looked unusual or suspicious but I wasn’t paying close attention,” Nate replied.

“Did you see anyone with a gun?” she asked next.

“No.”

“And you heard five shots?”

“Maybe,” Nate answered shaking his head. “When I close my eyes and try to remember, sometimes I think I can count four shots, sometimes I think I can count five shots.”

“So, you must have been shot before you were knocked to the ground?” she made her question open ended to invite a full response from Nate.

“I don’t know for sure,” he answered, much the same as he had described before. “It happened so fast, as far as I know everything happened at once.”

Both detectives nodded and glanced at each other as if to confirm they were satisfied with what they had learned from Nate. Brad realized why; each answer Nate gave had varied slightly from the previous time he’d been asked the same question, but only in the manner of his answer. The content of his answers had remained consistent. He was telling the truth.

Brad new that Nate had most likely been the intended target, something the police would never know, but he really didn’t know anything that could help solve the crime.

“Congratulations on graduating next week,” Detective Spencer said with a friendly smile, her posture relaxing.

“Thank you,” Nate replied.

“What did you major in?”

“Business and Geo-polysci.”

The detective whistled her appreciation. “It was all I could do to finish my degree in Criminal Justice. Do you have a job lined up?”

Brad tensed. He knew Nate had accepted one of his job offers, but he’d refused to tell Brad which one. He’d refused to talk about it at all. He wanted to know Nate’s decision but at the same time he dreaded the finality of the news.

“Starting in the fall I’ve accepted an Analyst position with a local firm of political lobbyists.”

Brad released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Detective Spencer’s amused eyes flicked up to his briefly then back down to Nate’s.

“So, Nate,” she said, flipping a page in her notebook. “We can reach you at your dormitory if we need anything else?”

“Actually,” Brad spoke up, decision made in an instant. “Since he graduates next week, he’ll be out of the dorm. You can reach him at my house.”

Detective Spencer quickly wrote down Brad’s address and phone number as he rattled them off. Brad sensed Nate stiffen at his words but he didn’t give a shit.

“Okay,” she said, closing the notebook. “Take good care of him.”

“I will,” Brad said firmly.

The detectives said their goodbyes and filed out of the cubicle.

“Can we go now?” Nate asked, shoulders slumped and sounding very tired.

Ray stepped into the cubicle and smiled at Nate. “Your limo waits.”

Brad helped Nate into his shirt, being very careful of his wounded shoulder, conscious of every wince of pain.

“They were after me,” Nate whispered. “Kit got in the way.”

“I know,” Brad replied.

“I can’t go back there,” Nate’s whisper was broken. “I need to, but I can’t.”

“We’ll talk about this when we get home,” Brad said. “But you’re right. You’re not ever going back.”

~*~

Brad rode his motorcycle home, Ray following with Nate in his car. He settled Nate on the sofa in the living room, and then went to talk with Ray. Brad saw Ray was looking around, taking in a pair of shoes – too small to be Brad’s – the legal pad covered in notes written in a neat hand so unlike Brad’s, and finally the kitchen drainboard that held two of each dish, glass and piece of cutlery.

“He gonna be okay?” Ray asked, nodding in Nate’s direction.

“Yeah,” Brad replied. “He is now. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“He needs anything; you need anything, you call.”

“I will. He’s going to sleep for the better part of the next day.”

“You go to his dorm room tomorrow and clear out any sex toys or kinky shit he’s got there and me and the guys will pack it up on Sunday and bring all his shit here.”

“Actually, he had my car tonight. Can you take me to pick it up tomorrow?”

“You got it, bro.”

“And all the kinky shit is already here,” Brad said, feeling surprisingly light hearted.

Ray smiled. “Call when you’re ready,” he said, then turned to leave.

Just before he opened the door, Ray shouted into the house, “Hey, Nate? Next time; duck.”

“Fuck off, Person,” came the weak but spirited reply.

Ray left, chuckling.

Brad retrieved water bottles from the fridge and went to sit next to Nate on the sofa.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, handing Nate the open water bottle.

“No. Not right now.”

“Do you know which of the pimps came after you?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter. They’ve all been coming after me in the last few weeks, either directly or through the other guys.”

“Christ, Nate,” Brad sighed, suddenly very afraid of how close he may have come to losing Nate for good. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was nothing you could do; it was my problem to handle.”

“A problem that damn near got you killed tonight.”

“I guess I have to stop working now.”

“I’ve wanted you to stop working for awhile.”

“I know. But that would have meant letting you take care of me.  It’s bad enough, feeling like I don’t have your respect because I’m a whore, but to be dependent on you as well?”  Nate glanced away briefly, as if searching for the right words. After long, silent moments he turned back to Brad, his expression sad. “And I still can’t help feeling you’re going to get bored of me and then I’ll be on my own again.”

Brad didn’t trust his own hearing. Nate’s words unlocked something constricting his chest. His response was heartfelt and unfettered. “You’re shitting me, right? You know I respect you for doing what you had to do to survive; make yourself into who you want to be.  So what if you stay with me sometimes? So what if I change the oil in your car?  I do those things because I care about you, because I want you to be happy, because having you around makes _me_ happy.” He paused, exhaling harshly. “We’ve been here before, Nate; this isn’t new ground for us.  But you know what _I_ worry about?”

Nate shook his head slightly; he looked taken aback by Brad’s heated response.

“What am I going to do when your new life takes off and _you_ leave _me_?” His voice was a frantic whisper, the strength of his emotions infusing every word.

Nate still seemed unsure. “I’m not leaving you. I won’t.” He paused, watching Brad closely. “Unless you want me to.”

So there it was.  So much time wasted. So much worry and frustration and all along, each of them had been afraid it was the other who was going to walk away. Brad grinned and breathed a relieved sigh.

“The guys are gonna move your stuff out of your dorm on Sunday and bring it here,” Brad told him, watching as the implication of his statement sank in.

“They don’t have to do that.” Nate’s protest was almost by rote.

“No, they don’t,” Brad agreed. “But they want to. They consider you a friend.”

“I’ve got enough money saved to afford a small apartment until I start my job.” the stubborn set of Nate’s jaw was back.

“Nate,” Brad snapped in frustration. “Knock it the fuck off.”

Nate visibly sagged.

“You practically live here already. I _want_ you here. Get it? Do you want to be here?”

Nate nodded slowly, his shoulders relaxing and his expression smoothing.

“Then use your savings to buy some new clothes for your new job,” Brad suggested. “You can start bringing home groceries now and then if you feel the need to contribute. Hang on to most of it for a down payment on a car when you start your job.”

They sat in silence for a long while. Brad just waited for Nate to talk. He’d been through a lot tonight and there had to be things still weighing on him. Now that the air was clear between them, Brad felt his patience was limitless.

“You heard what the detective said.” Nate finally spoke, his expression pensive. “My friends are going to end up hurt, dead or working for some worthless pimp.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Brad thought of the painfully young men and boys that frequented Nate’s street corner and all the years Nate had spent trying to protect them.

“I can’t leave them,” he said emphatically. “They need me.”

“You’ve done so much for them already,” Brad argued. “More than anyone can expect. You’re no good to anyone if you’re dead, least of all yourself. Or me.”

“I feel guilty for abandoning them to their fate while I go on and get this really great job and this really great b …” Nate bit off whatever it was he had been about to say.

“You aren’t moving on to anything you haven’t earned or don’t deserve.”

“I know that, but I can’t help how I feel.”

“I wouldn’t have you react any other way,” Brad said with a grin, affection for Nate unfurling in his chest. “But you _are_ done whoring. For good. You get your degree next week. We spend the summer jet skiing, riding my bike, and all those other things you said you wanted to try. In the fall you start your new job and buy yourself a new car. I get to come home to you every night and cook you dinner, give you baths and sleep next to you.”

 “But my friends are still out there, selling their bodies to pay pimps, getting beaten by tricks then dying young.” Nate seemed intent on torturing himself endlessly with circumstances he couldn’t control.

“So find a way to help them and others like them,” Brad suggested, resolving himself to the fact that emotionally, Nate wasn’t going to be able to walk away from the street. “But use your new education and your politically influential job to do it, instead of standing on the street corner along with them.”

Nate’s head swiveled around and he stared at Brad with wide eyes. “I could. I could do that.”

Brad reached out and brushed his fingers along Nate’s cheek.  “I _know_ you could. I know you will.”

Brad watched as Nate seemed to find peace with his decision. He saw when happiness and excitement began to creep into Nate’s eyes.

It felt as though everything had slotted into place.

“If we go to bed, do you think we can find a way to have sex that won’t hurt my shoulder?”

Brad smiled and helped Nate to stand.

“Of course. I’m a Marine; we make do.”

finis

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wonderfully and generously beta'd by shoshannagold, troygirl68, temporal_witch and nigltide


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